


A Hundred Echoes

by hunters_retreat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, chris & isaac father/son(ish) bond, isaac stuck around for Chris, malia didn't happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 07:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4254141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>  In the wake of life altering events, the Beacon Hills pack is trying to settle into some semblance of normal.  After the nogitsune, all Stiles wants is to be able to breathe easy and know that his friends are safe.  When Stiles begins to dream of his friends though, they turn out to be something extraordinary.  Stiles is a spirit walker.  The dreams leave him empathic and unable to control himself, but salvation comes in the unlikely form of Derek Hale.  Stiles just needs to know two things.  What is stirring in the woods of Beacon Hills to cause the entire pack to dream of horrific things? And can Derek help him learn to center himself and control his empathy before it’s too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hundred Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> For the Sterek Big Bang. Art by the amazing destielwinchi can be seen [ here](http://destielwinchi.livejournal.com/50981.html)

  

      

 

 

 

 

_“for there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.”  
  ― [Milan Kundera](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6343.Milan_Kundera), [The Unbearable Lightness of Being](http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/4489585)_

 

 

“Dude, you look like hell.”

Stiles glared at his best friend but it had about as much of an effect as he’d thought it would.  Scott continued to look at him with a furrowed brow and his lips pulled into a tight line.

“Yeah.  You remember the nightmares I told you I was having?  Still got ‘em,” Stiles said as he started to walk down the hall towards his first class of the day.  Luckily they shared the class together and Scott stayed by his side as they walked.

“That was two weeks ago.”

“Yep,” he said, making a loud popping sound at the end of the word.  “They can’t get enough of the Great Stilinksi.”

“Have you … you know … talked … to your dad or anyone about it?”

“You know I’ve been seeing that guy.”  Scott didn’t give any sign of understanding and Stiles rolled his eyes.  “After the nogitsune, Deaton gave my dad the name of a psychologist who knows about this sort of thing.  He thinks I’m having nightmares because of what we’re talking about in session but, I don’t know.”

“You don’t believe him?”

Stiles stopped Scott with a hand to his chest and made sure no one else was listening.  “With all the supernatural shit that’s happened to us, let’s just say that when I dream I’m a kanima with abandonment issues and a fear of pools, I’m skeptical that it’s because of the nogitsune.”

“You’re just dreaming about that because Jackson is coming back.”

“What?” Stiles asked in surprise.  Last he’d heard from Lydia there was no plan for Jackson to come back at all.

“It makes sense.  We were just talking about it on the way to Derek’s last night.”

“Dude, I didn’t go to Derek’s last night, remember?  I had dinner with my Dad.  No one told me Jackson was coming back.  Why didn’t anyone tell me Jackson was coming back?”

They entered the room just as the bell rang and they slid into their seats.  Scott looked over his shoulder before the teacher started.  “You must have heard it somewhere else then.”

Stiles nodded doubtfully but he didn’t say anything.  Jackson wasn’t the first were in the pack he’d dreamt about but it wasn’t the time or place to go into the nightmares he’d had about Derek or the near panic he woke up from when he dreamed of Isaac.

When class began Stiles was relieved to focus on something else.  He didn’t want to talk to Scott about the nightmares anymore.  If his friend wasn’t ready to see something else jump out of the woodwork yet, Stiles couldn’t blame him.  He knew Scott was still grieving for Allison which had also translated into seriously overprotective urges towards Kira that he was trying to cope with.  He didn’t want to burden Scott with his own issues. After all, they were just dreams which, unlike the trouble Stiles had with the nogitsune, left him very aware of what was real and what wasn’t.

He just wished that he’d dream about his own issues and not someone else’s.  It felt like an invasion of privacy even if it was just a dream.  He shook the thought away and opened his book when he realized the others were as well.  It was just stress and a lack of sleep that was all.

Maybe he should visit the sourwolf.  Derek would probably be more than willing to hit Stiles on the head hard enough to knock him out for a while.

 

**

 

Stiles was the last to show up at Derek’s for the pack meeting.  He’d planned on being there early but the unintentional nap he took killed that idea.  It had been two hours of blessedly dream-free sleep and he felt a hundred times better.  He didn’t even mind that he missed the few minutes of alone time he normally got with Derek when he showed up to help set up for pack meetings.  Alright, he did mind it a little, but he was feeling well enough that he could sneak a few minutes of clean up time after the meeting instead.

Not that those moments were anything more than Stiles enjoying the view and helping Derek out.  Derek had become a surprising ally in shutting out the doubts and grief that sometimes haunted him since his possession.  Derek had his own share of issues and while Stiles couldn’t say Derek handled it well in his earlier life, he’d learned to let go of a lot of it in the past year.  They weren’t friends, per se, but something close to it even if there was a lot of unresolved sexual tension on his side.

Everyone was sitting in a circle in the living room and Stiles couldn’t help but zoom in on the smile on Lydia’s face as she looked up at Jackson who sat at her side, his hand settled lightly on her knee.  The other boy looked at Stiles and while it wasn’t a welcoming look, there was far less hostility and anger than Stiles could ever remember seeing on Jackson’s face.

“Hey Jackson, I didn’t realize you were coming back so soon,” he said as he dropped onto the floor with the others.  He’d just found out about it five days ago and no one had told him a date.

“It was time,” was all Jackson said to him but that was more of an answer than Stiles expected.  A lot had changed since Jackson had become a werewolf and his time abroad seemed to have stilled some of his anger.

Stiles settled his back further into the couch and didn’t realize whose leg he had leaned against until a strong hand grabbed him under the arm and jerked him up onto the couch.

“Give a guy some warning before you manhandle him!” he said as he floundered a bit.  Derek just smirked at him but Stiles didn’t move away.  He leaned back and relaxed as he let the sound of the others sooth his overworked nerves.

He was almost asleep when Scott called him back to wakefulness.  “Stiles had a dream like that.”

He realized he’d lost some time.  He must have slept for a while because everyone had moved into the kitchen.  Stiles looked over at Scott and his best friend waved him over.  “Didn’t you tell me you had a dream about a kanima last Wednesday?”

Stiles nodded.  “Yeah.”  They all stared at him and he realized he’d walked into the middle of something more serious than he’d thought.  “It’s no big deal.  I dreamt I was a kanima.  I was staring across the ocean and something was calling me from the other side, but I was too afraid of the water to cross.  A bridge magically appeared, like out of a fog, and I transformed into a werewolf and ran across the bridge.”

“What was on the other side?” Scott asked.

Stiles shrugged.  “I woke before I made it.”

“Bullshit.” Jackson glared at him.

Stiles looked at Jackson in surprise.  “What?”

“That was my dream.  What are you playing at Stilinski?”

“I’ve dreamed it off and on for two months,” Stiles answered.

“Months?  You said you’d just been having nightmares the last few weeks?”

Stiles shrugged again.  “Weeks, months, it doesn’t matter.  It’s just a dream.”

“When have you ever thought something like that wasn’t related to the pack?” Scott asked.

“Stiles,” Derek cut the alpha off.  “Are you okay?”

“It’s not like… that.  I know it’s just a dream.”

He felt the sudden need to be away from his friends so he scooped his bag up before anyone else could say anything and headed out the door.  He made it to the front before Derek was beside him.  “Need a ride?”

He let out a deep breath and sighed.  “No, I’m good, but thanks for asking big guy.”

 

**

 

“Four others?”

Stiles nodded though he doubted Deaton could see it.  He probably heard the two thunks when his head hit the metal examination table Stiles was leaning against though.  Four nights.  Four dreams.  Four really uncomfortable conversations the day after.

“Every detail was the same and he told me about the dreams before I heard them from the others,” Scott chimed in.  It was Scott’s fault he was stuck in Deaton’s office.  Stiles was fine with a few stunted night’s sleep but Scott had been concerned and dragged him into the vet’s office.        

“Stiles, tell me what you feel in these dreams,” Deaton requested.

Stiles sat up and looked at Deaton.  “I … I feel like the person in the dream.”

“Are you aware of it at the time?”

“Yes.  I can tell when it’s not my dream.  I mean, I don’t know why I got stuck in someone else’s head but I know the difference now.”

“Scott said this has been happening for a few months?”

“Yeah.”

“And it isn’t like the dreams you had with the nogitsune?”

“No.  I didn’t know if I was awake or not but they were always mine back then.”

“I can’t honestly tell you why this is happening Stiles, but I will look into this.  I have a friend who might be able to shed some light on your predicament.”

“And in the meantime?”

“I know it isn’t ideal, but they’re just dreams.  I’m sure it will sort itself out soon enough.”

Stiles looked at Scott and rolled his eyes but neither said anything as Deaton left the room.  Stiles didn’t know what else he expected the vet to say.  Besides Jackson, he’d now stowed away in Scott’s, Derek’s and Isaac’s dreams.  None of them were pretty and all of them left him waking in a sweat.

“Maybe Derek knows something?” Scott suggested.

Stiles let out a snort.  “Why not?  Can’t hurt to try right?”

Scott smiled.  “That’s the spirit.”

 

**

 

Derek seemed less surprised to see him than usual which Stiles decided to take as a good sign.  Derek left the door open for Stiles to follow him into his loft and Stiles closed the door firmly behind him, grateful that he’d been able to talk Scott out of following along with him.

Huh.  Derek had art on the walls.  Honest to god art, if art looked like a five years old had smeared red and yellow all over a canvas.  
“Stiles, did you come here to stare at the painting or was there something you needed?”

He shook his head.  “Sorry.  I just hadn’t seen this painting before.  Not that you need my permission to hang a painting in your loft.  Or that the lack of painting was an issue.  Or that this one is an issue.  I’m sure many people find the colors to be less… um… “

Fire-like was what he wanted to say but if Derek didn’t see flames Stiles didn’t want to mention it.

Derek just pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand.  “Peter.”

“I didn’t think he was around these days.”  Stiles preferred it that way, but he’d been creeped out by Peter when he’d offered him the bite and Stiles never got rid of the feeling that the wolf regretted asking and not just biting him as he had Scott.

“He’s not.  He showed up with the painting, said it was a gift, and I left.  When I came back it had been hung.  What do you want Stiles?”

Stiles looked at Derek and for someone who didn’t need much sleep, the guy looked like he could use a few night’s rest.  “Scott.  Deaton.”

Derek just waited patiently as Stiles tried to figure out how to say the rest of it because there was a part he hadn’t wanted to admit to anyone just yet.

“I’ve dreamt of four people’s dreams in the last four nights.  Scott made me go to Deaton but he was cryptic as usual.  I’m seeing what other people are dreaming and it’s an invasion of privacy.  I just … why is it always dreams?  First the nemeton, and then the nogitsune.  Now this.”

He dropped onto the couch, feeling a little defeated – he refused to be more than a little defeated because he would never give up on his friends but he was allowed a mini-defeat in his head, right? – and felt a little better when Derek sat next to him and bumped their shoulders together.

“What did Deaton say about the dreams?”

“The nogitsune may have left me open to other possibilities.  Not bad ones necessarily but the spark I possess may manifest in certain ways because of it.”

“That was supposed to be helpful?”

“No, cryptic.  I told you.”

Derek gave a small huff which Stiles took as agreement.  He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.  He felt more at peace here than he did anywhere these days.  Derek had messed a lot of things up for the pack, but he’d come home to make that right.  He’d become something good for the pack, something strong.  He made Stiles feel safe because Derek was the one person in the pack that Stiles didn’t have to worry about too much.  Derek Hale was a survivor.  So was Stiles.  He could see bits of himself in the man that Derek was and vice versa.  It was oddly disturbing and comforting in equal measure.

“I’ll call your Dad and let him know you’ll be here a while,” Derek said as Stiles yawned.

Yeah, his Dad finding out about the pack wasn’t quite the disaster he’d always feared.  At least now Derek could do things like that and not freak his dad out.  Besides, Stiles was too tired to argue.  When Derek pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it across Stiles’ shoulders, he let out a deep sigh and fell straight asleep.

 

**

 

It was a dream.  No.  It was a nightmare.  He didn’t need more than a moment of recognition to see the dark woods, the shadowy husk of a house, and the full moon overhead to know he’d stepped into a freaking horror movie.  He could see a rope coiled in circles at the side of the house and he cringed at the memory of pulling it himself, of finding Laura Hale’s body.

Stiles let out a deep breath as he looked closer around him.  He knew it was a dream but he didn’t know whose dream it was.  He was pretty sure, but Derek wasn’t the only one who could be dreaming about that night.  The night Stiles and Scott had chased off after a dead body had started their path into dangerous territory and he could be in Scott’s head as easily as Derek’s.

Though if Stiles was being honest with himself – and he made of habit of being honest with himself – he imagined Scott’s dreams with far more cuddly kittens and rainbows and, like, fluffy cotton candy.

A howl broke through the silence of the night and Stiles turned back to look at the coil of rope.  Which was now being pulled by some invisible force and bodies were being pushed out of the ground in grotesque eruptions of purple flame and gusts of smoke.

They stared at him with hungry eyes and Laura’s face transformed into her beta form.  She growled at him and he took a step back, terrified.  It didn’t feel right.  This wasn’t just a dream.  He didn’t know what was different or how he knew but he trusted his instincts.

He took another step back and the other werewolves – the Hale family, he realized – turned towards him as well.  Their faces were burnt, but unlike Peter when they’d first met, their faces hadn’t healed.  They ran with pus and gore and Stiles had to fight not to throw up where he stood.

The woman at the front howled and it started Stiles.  He stepped back and fell.  It made him vulnerable and the dead pack began to slowly circle him.  Stiles wanted to call for help but it wouldn’t do any good.  He needed his own pack.  He needed Derek and Scott and the others to get there ASAP or he wasn’t going to survive the night.

He felt something in him open and he didn’t understand but he pushed out with it until there was an echoing call.  He could feel it grow until there was enough that he understood what it was.  Who it was.

A howl echoed through the night air and the pack stopped.  They settled behind the woman but she continued to move closer.

“Woh, now,” Stiles said as he got back to his feet.  “No need to get territorial.  There is plenty of Stiles to go around.”

He got to his feet and took a step back as the woman lunged forward.  Clawed hands raked across his stomach and it was only his fall back on his ass that kept him from getting ripped in two.  Pain spread across his torso but he shuffled back across the forest floor.

“You’re not pack,” the woman said, her words oddly accentuated around a mouthful of teeth.  “He isn’t strong enough to have a pack.”

“We are his pack,” Stiles said as he continued to move away from the werewolf.  She was still advancing but not as quickly.  Her eyes kept going back to the treeline before coming back to rest on Stiles.  “He’s stronger than he knows.”

She laughed at that but never answered because then Erica ran out of the trees and sprang at her.  The woman grabbed Erica by the throat and threw her to the ground in a spray of red.  Erica didn’t move.

Boyd came out of the trees next with Isaac and the others.  They all stopped together, only Derek was missing. Cora stepped away from them though and moved towards the woman.  Her eyes were sad as she looked back at Stiles.  “I’m sorry, but she’s my alpha.”

“Cora, he gave up his alpha spark for you,” Scott stepped up to Stiles side and he wanted to push him further away from Talia Hale, creepy undead alpha, but there was nothing he could do to stop Scott from being who he was.

“Being loyal was never Derek’s problem.  It was who he chose to give his loyalties too that was,” Talia said with a sadistic smile.  “He was too blinded to see what the hunter was and now?  His loyalty is to a teenage boy who associates with the same family of hunters that killed us and have tortured him.  I would rather see him dead than see him continue to make the same mistakes.”

She looked back at the rest of her pack then and Stiles knew they were dead.  He was bleeding steadily already from the deep scratches across his stomach.  Erica still hadn’t moved.

Because Erica was dead.  Erica was dead.  Erica had died because of the alpha pack and so had Boyd.  He’d forgotten he was in a nightmare.

“Derek!”  He screamed the beta’s name because if he could get to Derek then maybe he could get him to wake up.  Something was different this time, something made it more real and less the illusions he’d felt before, but he knew he had to get to Derek and wake him up before he had to live through whatever this was.

The two packs around him roared and Stiles screamed for Derek again but he couldn’t be heard over the noise.  Scott pushed him backwards as Talia leapt.  Stiles landed hard on the ground and was too stunned to move for a few moments.  When he was able to sit up, it was already done.  His pack was lying in bloody pools on the forest floor.  Cora was covered in the gore of the people who’d saved her from the alpha pack but tears streaked a path down her face as she did her alpha’s bidding against her will.

Talia turned to look at him again with Scott lying unmoving at her feet.  She stepped over him and Stiles tried to stand but couldn’t.  Talia stopped though and smiled as she looked away from him.

“Too late as usual, Derek.  They died and you didn’t even have the decency to die with them.  Now what are you left with?  Nothing but a useless teenage boy and the knowledge that you will never be able to protect them.  No matter how many times you rebuild, you will never deserve them.  You don’t protect them Derek, you simply survive them.”

“Derek,” Stiles turned to see Derek at the edge of the tress.  His eyes glowed that eerie blue that Stiles had always felt showed far more empathy than Derek let people know he had.  “This is just a dream Derek.  We were talking about it when I came over tonight, remember?”

Derek stepped away from the trees.  “Then do what you promised.  Kill me before I make the same mistakes again.  Don’t make me survive this too.”

“You would offer yourself in his place?”

“Yes.”

“Derek, no!“

“If it’s just a dream, Stiles, what does it matter?” Derek asked.

Stiles wanted to bang his head against a wall because of course Derek wouldn’t be concerned that he was punishing himself in his dreams like this.  The guy still wouldn’t even concede that Kate had been a sexual predator and he had been a victim in what had happened.  He wouldn’t admit to the PTSD-like symptoms that Stiles had seen from him and that he’d picked up from the bits and pieces Derek let out about his life in New York.

Derek stepped over to Talia and his sisters each took him by the arm.  Laura looked over Derek’s shoulder to smile at Stiles while Cora bit her bottom lip and looked at her feet, obedient but in pain.

Talia raised a clawed hand and slashed Derek’s chest.  The beta choked out a noise but refused to scream.  Stiles did it for him as he struggled to his feet.  “Heal damn it, heal,” he willed his body.  It was a fucking dream and he was not going to watch Derek get eviscerated by his undead mother.

“Get away from him,” Stiles demanded.  His voice was stronger than the rest of him but he let his conviction pull him from the ground and he stepped closer to the betas.  They looked back at Talia but she raised another hand and slashed lower on Derek’s torso.

“Stop!” he pushed his hand out as he yelled and Talia was forced back a step.  They all looked at him then and Stiles stood taller.

“You don’t get to hurt him.  He is my pack and I will not let you hurt him.”

“Stiles, don’t.  Just run,” Derek begged.

“Wake up, Derek.  I won’t leave until you do.”  He wasn’t even sure he could, not with how real everything felt in this dream, but he   refused to try until he knew Derek was awake.

The ground at Stiles feet erupted as more coils of rope began pushing up between him and Derek.  He got knocked to the ground but he kept going.

“Derek!  Hold on, I’m coming!”

He struggled forward but he wasn’t sure he’d make it before Talia completely ripped him in two.  He stumbled the last few feet closer and pitched himself forward as the last burst of earth pushed him off his feet.

He grabbed Derek’s shoulder as he fell and for a moment he felt safe and cared for, until the pain hit and Stiles felt Derek disappearing.  Derek woke and Stiles fell to the ground and forced himself to wakefulness.

 **

 

Stiles opened his eyes to find himself lying on the couch in Derek’s loft.  His whole body hurt and Stiles groaned as he tried to move.  
He opened his eyes as he was hit by a mass of confusing emotions.  Fear, pain, worry, guilt, relief.  It wasn’t his.  He didn’t know what he was feeling or what the source was but he looked over and his father was there with Derek.  Derek was bare chested but his torso was ripped to shreds.  Blood covered him and Stiles would have thrown up at the memories of the dream if sitting up hadn’t hurt him so bad.  
  
“Stiles!” Derek called his name and pushed the Sheriff away from him.  
  
“Son?”  
  
Stiles looked down at his own body and pulled his shirt up to see the shallow scratches across his torso.  The place where Talia had wounded him, that he’d told to heal in the dream.  He could feel the emotions stronger now and he didn’t know how this had happened but he understood.  He could feel what his father was feeling.  What Derek was feeling.  
  
“Dad, no,” he tried to hold his father back but it wasn’t enough time and not enough warning.  When his father touched him, Stiles felt the fear and guilt and the underlying determination to get Stiles through whatever this was, but it was too much.  His father’s never-waivering love washed over him and he pitched his mind away from it to try to protect himself.  He felt Derek’s concern and guilt but it was a balm instead of the fear inducing emotions his father caused.  
  
“Please, don’t,” he begged his father, even as he looked at Derek.  
  
His father sat on the couch and pulled his shirt up.  When his hand touched skin, Stiles blacked out with the pain of the empathic backlash.  
  
  
**  
  
Stiles came back to awareness quickly.  He knew that because his father’s panic level was still rising quickly and he could feel Derek’s concern that hadn’t grown too drastic yet.  He hadn’t been out long enough to worry Derek.  
  
“Situation normal?” Stiles asked.  
  
His dad gave off a choked off laugh but there was more fear coming from his father than relief.  “Stiles, what happened?  You’re bleeding.  When I touched you, you blacked out.”  
  
There was more to it, but Stiles cringed as his father moved closer again.  
  
“Stiles?”  
  
“It hurt, when you touched me.”  
  
“I know son, I need to see the wound.”  
  
“No, I … Dad I could feel you.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Derek?”  He looked over at the werewolf because there was a rush of sympathy from Derek and it was calming.  “Come here.”  
  
“Stiles,” he looked at the Sheriff but he moved anyway, closer to Stiles.  
  
“I can feel you too, your emotions, but it doesn’t hurt.”  
  
“Stiles, this doesn’t make any sense.  You’re bleeding,” his father pleaded.  
  
The door behind them pushed open and Scott and his mom came through.  He would have appreciated how close Derek’s loft was to the hospital at another time, but he was hit with their emotions on top of what his father was feeling and it was too much.  He called out in pain.  Confusion and pain and fear and determination, but then it was all gone and it was just Derek.  
  
Derek was in front of him and Stiles grabbed him by the shirt and sobbed as Derek pulled him closer.  He could feel the confusion in Derek but it wasn’t overwhelming or painful.  It took a few minutes before he could finally hear what was being said and he let out a shaky breath.  
  
“Stiles, I need to see your stomach,” Derek said quietly.  
  
He nodded and Derek began to pull away but Stiles kept his hands in Derek’s shirt.  Derek looked at Stiles’ hands and then back up to his eyes.  “I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
Stiles let go then and let his head tip back.  He closed his eyes as he felt Derek pull his shirt up.  Scott’s mom came closer but her emotions weren’t as strong.  
  
“Stiles?  Can Melissa help?”  
  
“I don’t think so,” he admitted.  “I … I think if she gets any closer it’s going to start hurting again.”  
  
“Alright,” he looked over his shoulder at her.  “Tell me what I should do.”  
  
“Stiles, how did this happen?” Scott asked.  Stiles’ dad and best friend had both moved closer to see what had happened to him but no one could explain it yet.  
  
“I’m not sure,” he said as Derek popped a claw and sliced through his shirt.  “Hey, I liked that shirt.”  
  
Derek rolled his eyes but then Melissa gave him a rag to start cleaning up the blood so they could see and he focused on his work.  
“I … uh … I was in Derek’s dream,” he could feel the guilt in Derek but he was more concerned with the anger he felt from Scott.   “I was attacked and I got hurt.  I told myself to heal and it did.”  
  
“This is healed?” his dad asked.  
  
“It was a lot worse in the dream.  Derek?”  
  
He pushed at Derek until he had the werewolf’s shirt up.  There was no broken skin but Stiles could still see the reddened scratches where his skin was still healing over.  “You were hurt too.  What the hell?”  
  
“Sit back and let me fix this,” Derek said as he gently pushed Stiles back down on the couch.  He went quietly but he watched Derek as he did as Melissa asked.  He was cleaned and bandaged fast but he still felt raw.  
  
“I think we need to call Deaton,” Derek broke the silence.  
  
“What?”  
  
“He said he thought you were manifesting your spark.  He knows more than he’s saying.”  
  
“I’ll give him a call,” his dad said as he pulled out his cell phone.  “And while we wait for him, we’re gonna have a long talk about what the hell just happened.”  
  
  
**  
  
  
“It is a rare talent and the amount of conjecture about it makes the truth hard to find, however there can be no doubt.  Stiles is a spirit walker.”  
  
Stiles wanted to bury his head under a pillow until this all blew over but pillows meant sleep and sleep meant dreams and dreams lately?  That meant pain.  Stiles wasn’t a coward but he wasn’t exactly fond of waking in pain.  
  
“What does that have to do with the way we all woke up?” Jackson demanded.  
  
After Stiles had woken up, they’d realized that everyone in the pack had woken when Stiles had gotten Derek awake.  Every one of them had the sudden need to find Stiles, even the humans that were only minimally involved in the pack.  Chris Argent really wasn’t happy about that but Scott had been pleased that his mom had been part of it, so you win some you lose some.  
  
“I believe that Stiles used his connection to the pack to send a warning to all of you.”  
  
“We weren’t in danger,” Scott commented.  
  
“But two members of the pack were.  Knowing Stiles as I do, I suggest that he was warning the pack that Derek was hurt and that he himself was the cause.”  
  
“Now wait a minute,” the Sheriff tried to butt in but Stiles stood up.  
  
“So what you’re saying is that instead of just watching everyone’s nightmares, when I show up I make them real?”  
  
“Yes, I fear so.”  
  
“What the ever loving hell?”  
  
“Is this what you feared when you told Stiles that the nogitsune may have opened him up to other possible ways to manifest his spark?” Derek asked.  
  
“No.  I was concerned about what that would do to Stiles, especially after the nemeton.  I wouldn’t have thought spirit walking would possibly fall under the realm of his, even once he started having these dreams.”  
  
“And what happened after?” his father asked.  Stiles cringed because he still wasn’t able to sit next to his father.  He wasn’t feeling anyone else’s emotions but his sensory memory was working overtime and he wasn’t comfortable around anyone but Derek just yet.  
  
“Sheriff Stilinski, I have to tell you that Stiles is an individual unlike any I have ever known.  I have always believed that once Stiles found his spark that it would manifest in a spectacular way.  I don’t believe that a human spark and a true alpha have come together as they have by coincidence.  Magic protects itself and in dark times it often calls together unlikely heroes.  Stiles current abilities are quite astounding.  What I believe happened is that Stiles somehow opened himself to a form of empathy in the dream.  I don’t know how he was able to close it off upon waking.  What I fear is that it will return and with the same result until such a time as Stiles is able to control it.  For now, I think it’s safe to say that anytime Stiles wakes, the people around him should be careful not to touch him.”  
  
Stiles shivered at the memory but Derek sat on the arm of the couch and casually let his hand brush against the back of Stiles’ shoulder.  Stiles felt better at the small contact.  It was like a promise that Derek would be there again if he needed it.  
  
When the others had exhausted their questions, and Lydia had plenty, Deaton left but Stiles followed him out.  There was one question that still bothered him but he didn’t dare ask in front of the others.  
  
“Was there something else, Mr. Stilinski?” Deaton asked as Stiles rushed out the door.  
  
There was a small smile on Deaton’s face, like he’d expected nothing less.  Stiles thought Deaton was secretly thrilled that all this strange shit was happening to Stiles.  Scott had joked more than once about Stiles being his emissary but he was beginning to get the feeling that Scott might have gotten the idea from someone else.  
  
“Why Derek?” he asked without thought.  “My dad was right there.  Why would Derek be the one that comforted me instead of Dad?”  
  
“I don’t know that I can answer that question, Stiles.  The best I have here is a guess but you were in Derek’s nightmare.  When you opened yourself up to this empathy it was to try to call the pack to you.  I think because you were already connected to Derek you bonded yourself to him on a psychic level that allowed you to be near him afterwards.”  
  
“Bonded?”  
  
“Temporarily.  But this is all conjecture.  It could be that this never happens again.  I would certainly be quite happy to never get another call in the middle of the night.”  
  
“Thank you, for that, by the way.  Your help.”  
  
Deaton smiled.  “You’re welcome.  Good night, Stiles.”  
  
He watched Deaton leave, then headed upstairs, very aware of Derek’s silent presence behind him as he made his way back to the others.       
  
  
**  
  
  
“See you at home later?” Scott asked as they walked out of school.  
  
Scott and Kira were staying late to work on a project but Scott had started checking in with him constantly.  
  
“Heading over to Derek’s.”  
  
“What?  Why?”  
  
Stiles let out a deep breath.  Scott didn’t know how to help Stiles and he’d decided to blame Derek for the injuries he’d received.  
  
“I need to talk to him about last night.  It’s not like he was going to open up with everyone there watching us.”  
  
“Does he ever open up?”  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes but Scott had a point.  He smiled thought.  “Come on, Scotty.  It’s me.  How can he resist?”  
  
“You mean you’re going to go over there and wear him down until he eventually surrenders?”  
  
“Absolutely.  I may be there for three weeks.  Bring curly fries.”  
  
Stiles saw the moment Scott located Kira in the hallway by the big dopey smile that appeared on his face.  When Stiles looked over he could see it’s match on Kira’s face.  It was the most saccharine moment in Stiles’ day and he didn’t begrudge his best friend.  
  
Besides, he was going to go ogle Derek behind his back so who was he to judge?  
  
  
**  
  
  
“What do you want Stiles?”  
  
Derek scowled but he’d already backed away from the door to let Stiles into his loft.  Stiles took the days of immediate admittance as proof that his charm was working on the sourwolf.  
  
“My dad’s doing the late shift and Scott had this project to do with Kira after school and I thought, hey, bet Derek is bored out of his mind and needs a little Stilinski in his life.”  
  
Derek ignored him and went over to the armchair and plopped down.  He picked up a book that had been placed down to hold his spot, then began to read.  Stiles would call him out on his rudeness but he was aware that it was as close to an invitation to stay as he was going to get.  Especially after what had happened the night before.  
  
Instead of press his luck, Stiles settled onto the couch and pulled out his school books.  He was fairly caught up – being afraid to sleep at nights does that – but it never hurt to put in a little extra work now.  Especially when things were likely to go from bad to worse soon.  Stiles didn’t like coincidences and him suddenly developing a rare talent that had both he and Derek waking up in pain seemed a bit suspect.  
  
Stiles lost himself in his books and when he ran out of things to work on, he pulled open one of the books Deaton had given him about spirit walking.  He didn’t notice how long he’d been there and Derek didn’t say anything.  At one point a bottle of water and a bowl of popcorn appeared on the table and Stiles munched away happily with a mumbled thanks.  
  
Scott and Kira came over and sat quietly at the table to do their homework.  Lydia an Jackson stopped by to ask about the next pack meeting, though Stiles thought it was really just an excuse to check in on everyone.  They left after a few minutes and the others settled back quietly to their work.  
  
The light had begun to fade when Scott and Kira said good night and Stiles was left alone with Derek again.  The beta was in the kitchen banging around pots and Stiles went in to investigate.  
  
“How did I not know you could cook?” Stiles asked as he found Derek making pasta.  
  
“You assumed I lived on cheap take out and left overs.”  
  
“Touché,” Stiles said with a smile.  
  
“Make a salad,” Derek pointed to the vegetables that were out on the counter and Stiles realized it was an actual invitation to stay for dinner.  
  
“You got it,” he said as he began rummaging in the cabinets for a bowl.  He worked quickly to clean and cut up vegetables for a salad.  It was oddly domestic but Stiles had enjoyed the afternoon and even if it killed the mood, he felt he should acknowledge it.  
“Thanks.  For letting us stay earlier.  Scott’s worried about me and he just wanted to check up on me.”  
  
“Scott’s a good alpha.  It was … nice … having part of the pack here.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You didn’t disrupt my reading which was a big surprise.”  
  
“In our defense, we usually only come over when someone’s life is in danger.”  
  
Derek nodded his head as if giving Stiles the point.  “Laura wasn’t a great cook and after the fire she wasn’t really able to focus on that sort of thing.  I started to cook as a way to try to take care of her.  She was all I had and it was my fault that she’d lost everything.  We used to have a large pack though and we were all over each other.  Peter was this annoying older cousin who was far too nosey and Laura loved to keep him in check.  You’ll never know the others but we were all so interconnected in each other’s lives.  Sometimes I forget what it felt like, to have people you care about and trust surrounding you.”  
  
“And today?”  
  
“Some days it’s easier to remember I can still have that.”  
  
It wasn’t what Stiles had come over to talk about, but Derek had opened up a little and Stiles was going to take that as a win.  
  
  
**  
  
  
It became a habit.  Stiles showed up at Derek’s loft after school on the nights when his dad wasn’t home.  He told Scott about Derek’s confession and even though Scott still felt like Derek had something to do with Stiles injuries in his dream, he started to go over as well to make sure the beta knew that Scott needed him.  Kira and Issac followed along after Scott often enough and Lydia made Derek get a better wifi carrier so she could bring her laptop with her to work in the afternoons while Jackson was at practice or working out.  As a wolf he didn’t need to gain muscle, but he couldn’t exactly tell the coaches that.  
  
The dreams came at night but Stiles was grateful that most didn’t include injury.  The nightmares were still bad, but not all of them became real when they woke.  Some did.  There were still nights when Stiles stepped into a dream and knew the consequences would be real.  Scott was nearly eviscerated by hunters before Stiles was able to get to him to wake him up.  Kira nearly electrocuted him.  Twice.  Lydia had screamed so loudly in her dreams that he woke with blood draining from his eyes and ears.  Each time he was left emotionally wide open to everything around him until Derek showed up.  Each time, when Stiles touched the dreaming person, the entire pack woke together.  
  
It was a sick routine but Stiles was adjusting to it.  He’d begun to sleep at odd times when he knew everyone else would be awake.  He woke at bedtime to do his schoolwork or whatever chores he could do that wouldn’t wake his dad.  
  
He settled across the couch and smiled at the sound of Kira and Isaac bickering back and forth about their English class.  Scott was trying to get through math with Lydia’s help but Stiles feared it would soon turn to violence.  Lydia was awesome but she wasn’t a patient teacher.  
  
“I hate seeing him like this,” Lydia said softly.  They thought he was asleep already and Stiles was too tired to correct them.  
  
“How long can he keep this up?  He only sleeps when we’re all here.  Eventually he’s going to get exhausted and how bad is that going to get for all of us?”  
  
“We’ll take care of him,” Scott answered.  “We’ll find a way.”  
  
Stiles felt Derek standing over him before he felt the blanket settle on top of him.  “He’ll find a way,” Derek corrected Scott.  “He always does. And we’ll take care of him until then.”  
  
  
**  
  
  
Stiles woke slowly and let out a soft moan as he stretched.  The couch was big enough to accommodate him all stretched out, but it wasn’t always the most comfortable bed.  Still, he’d gotten a few hours of sleep, he could tell from the way the sky had darkened.  Jackson was at the table with the others so practice was out.  Stiles could smell food so dinner would be out soon.  
  
“I think we should at least try to contact him,” Scott said quietly.  It was his determined voice and Stiles wanted to pinch his cheeks whenever he heard it.  Scott was such a teddy bear and his voice still hadn’t grown into the responsibility he had.  
  
“There’s a reason you’re mentioning this while Stiles is asleep,” Derek said.  
  
“Stiles doesn’t always know what’s best for him and it’s not the only idea that’s been thrown around while he sleeps.”  
  
That caught Stiles attention and he sat up and looked at the others.  “What are you guys talking about?”  
  
“Scott wants me to contact Peter,” Derek answered.  He crossed his arms over his chest and Stiles could almost feel his irritation at Scott’s request.  
  
“Bad idea,” Stiles said as he stood up and sat down at the chair Derek had just vacated.  “Bad, bad, monumentally bad idea.”  
  
“He might know what’s happening Stiles.”  
  
“We have Deaton and even if I believe the guy is hiding things, he generally doesn’t leave out life threatening bits that could help us.  Peter is just as likely to leave them out on purpose to see what happens next.”  
  
“What about going to Cora’s pack?” Isaac asked.  “Would they help us?”  
  
Derek looked over at Scott before answering.  “If we had some sort of alliance with them, maybe, but if we went to them for help they’d just see us as weak and unstable.  As much as I trust her pack to keep her safe, it isn’t our pack and I don’t know what they would do.  The Hale pack protected these lands for a long time and there were plenty of packs who would have taken a sign of weakness and tried to take it from us.  It seems like most packs are having some issues these days, but I don’t trust them well enough to air our concerns just yet.”  
  
“Guys, it’s not a big deal.  I just take a lot of cat naps and I haven’t been hurt that often in the dreams lately.”  
  
“Not often,” Derek said as he looked at Scott.  He didn’t look at Stiles but he knew what Derek meant.  Of all the others, Stiles had a harder time waking Derek.  If he woke hurt it was almost always Derek’s dream.  
  
“We’ll keep our options open, for now,” Scott answered.  Stiles knew there was something else being said but he was still too tired to think about it.  Maybe if he was getting more sleep he’d be able to think a little clearer but Jackson’s dream late last night had been a doozey and he was still exhausted.  Lydia might be right, that it was taking its toll on him, but he wasn’t ready to admit that just yet.  His pack was stronger than that and he’d keep going until they figured it out.  
  
“Ready for food?” Derek asked Stiles.  Stiles hadn’t realized how hungry he was until Derek mentioned it.  
  
“Whatcha got for me tonight, Big Guy?”  
  
Derek gave him a small smile and Stiles followed him to the kitchen to help set it all out for their pack.  
  
  
**  
  
The scream bubbled from his throat and it was already past his lips before he realized he was awake. Terror filled his lungs like smoke and his nostrils burned with it.  Sweat-soaked sheets clung to his body and Stiles threw himself free of their snare, haunted by the press of mountain ash and flames all around him that still lingered from the nightmare.  
  
  
"Stiles!" His father ran into the room and Stiles shuffled back against the headboard of his bed, away from outstretched arms that wanted to comfort and heal.  He knew his father wanted to help but Stiles was too vulnerable, too wide open, to allow his father’s touch.  He still hadn’t found a way to control his empathy when he was still trying to find his way through another person’s dreams.  
  
The damage he felt wasn't recent.  It wasn't even his own, yet it felt real.  
  
"Stiles?" His father’s voice was pleading this time.  
  
"I'm okay, Dad," he spoke quickly, flustered.  "Just give me a minute," he added as he stumbled out of bed.  “I need to get him out.”  He closed his eyes and trusted his father to keep the space between them as he sat on the floor.  He scooted back until he was pressed against into the wall under his window.           
  
It was odd to have such an association but Stiles took what strength he could from his environment and in some strange way, this place felt the most like Derek.  He used Stiles’ window as his own personal turnstile to his life and the most memorable moments between them had happened as Derek climbed in or out of the window.  
  
He took a deep breath and remembered the heat of Derek’s dream until he could feel it settle around him again.  Tonight, Derek burned with his family.  Their dead eyes glared with silent accusation as they followed Stiles before they turned to ash.  Laura sat on the steps that led up from the basement and laughed as she saw him, but she was cut in two a moment later and her joy was replaced with a deep gurgling noise.  
  
"Derek, wake up."  Stiles was too quiet in the roar and groan of the burning Hale house but he knew the words were loud in the silence of his bedroom where his father waited fearfully for him to return; prayed that he returned.  
  
This wasn't the first journey Stiles had taken into the dreamscape of Derek Hale’s mind but it was the most vivid.  Stiles tried not to think about what that would mean when they woke.  
  
"Derek!" Stiles yelled into the smoke.  He knew Derek was there, could see his eyes flare blue in the distance through the smoke but he couldn't seem to reach him.  The dead eyes of the Hale family continued to watch Stiles, some the red or amber of werewolves, some blue, brown or green of humans, but all glared in accusation.  Stiles knew it meant nothing more than the guilty punishment Derek thought he deserved.  Stiles thought that over the past few years Derek had learned to move past some of that but his nightmares showed a different side of Derek that Stiles never wanted to see, sympathize with or understand.  He did though and as he felt the weight of the dead on his heart., he took that weight from Derek's shoulders because for some reason he was the one who could.  
  
  
"Derek!" He reached forward as a beam fell from the roof and searing pain made him pull his arms back.  A large sliver of wood stuck through his forearm and the flesh looked red where angry welts surrounded it.  
  
"Stiles!" Derek was before him suddenly, skin raw and blistered, unhealed from the fire he’d just ran through to get to Stiles.  "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Wake the hell up, Derek!"  
  
"Get out of here, Stiles!  Everything is falling apart!"  
  
"I'm not leaving without you, Derek," Stiles told him.  He held his hand out for Derek to take but it wasn't like Scott's dreams, or Isaac's.  This was Derek and even in his dreams there was a circle of mountain ash between him and the people he could ask for help.  
  
Derek pushed at the line of mountain ash that had appeared around him.  His arms trembled at the force he brought to bear as he fought the barrier between them.  Stiles knew Derek’s struggle was for him.  Derek would have let himself burn to the ground - again - if he weren't there.  If they hadn't already learned the hard way what the consequences of Stiles' appearance in the pack's dreams meant.  
  
"Stiles, please go," Derek's voice lost its command as he pleaded with Stiles.  "I'll survive.  I'll heal as soon as I wake up. You won't."  
  
Stiles knew what he needed to do then.  Derek would suffer the awful burns and wake with the memory of how much his family had suffered before their death.  Stiles couldn't watch it happen and if he couldn’t reach Derek to wake him then he had to shock him awake.  There was one thing he was sure would do the trick.  
  
Stiles’ hand burned as he grabbed the knife he kept at his belt these days.  The hilt was too hot to hold but he ignored the smell of burnt flesh.  What was his own, thrown in with the entire Hale family? He held it high for Derek to see.  
  
Derek's blue eyes flashed red for an instant as Stiles brought the knife towards his own heart.  Derek lunged against the mountain ash barrier.  
  
"Stiles!" He heard his father screamed his name but it almost sounded like Derek’s voice echoing in his head.  Stiles blinked against the darkness of his own bedroom after the glaring light of the fire in Derek’s mind.  He found his father standing at the foot of his bed.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Stiles, I need..." His dad took a deep breath.  "You're bleeding.  I need to help you."  
  
He didn't know how long he'd been in Derek's head but it was enough time for his dad to get the emergency medical kit - the big one Scott's mom had put together for them when this first started. Anxious lines surrounded his dad’s pressed lips and furrowed brow.  
  
Stiles looked at his arm and the shock subsided enough that the pain came rushing forward.  His phone rang and he was barely aware of his father’s voice in the background, telling Derek that Stiles was alive and he'd damn well better get Melissa to them ASAP.  
  
"Dad?" He coughed before he could say anything further. His lungs burned.  
  
"Jesus," his dad muttered.  There was noise in the background and he thought Derek might be on speaker phone so he could hear the night’s tally as he rushed over to the McCall’s house.  
  
"Alright.  Okay, kid.  Let’s take a look.  There's a… Stiles how the hell did you get a stake through your arm?"  
  
Stiles coughed again, his throat raw and blood spattered over his lips as his dad continued examining him.  
  
"Looks like second degree burns, maybe third on the forearm.   Lung damage?  Derek?"  
  
"Smoke inhalation," the wolf answered.  "I was in the house when it burnt."  
  
"Derek." here was a world of pain in the way his dad said Derek’s name and Stiles knew his dad was horrified not just because of Stiles' predicament - though that was obviously his first concern - but because Derek still punished himself over something that had been done to him so long ago.  
  
"There was mountain ash and I couldn't get to him to wake up," Derek finished.  
"He's coughing blood, but he seems to be getting enough breath." His dad sounded only slightly relieved.  
  
"Pulling into Scott's now," Derek reported before hanging up.  
  
Stiles hated the silence that was left behind.  He hated the cough that came and the quiet hitch of breath that let him know his dad was forcing back tears.  
  
"Be okay, Dad," he spoke softly, remembering from somewhere that whispering was bad for your throat. He was definitely going to check the source of that when he was feeling better.   "Don't touch me.  Don't let... Just Derek," Stiles warned in a raspy voice.  
  
"I know the drill, kiddo."  
  
His dad sounded wrecked and Stiles let out a weak bark of laughter that ended in more coughing and tears in his eyes.  
  
"Fuck. Why is this my life?" he asked as another spasm ran through him.  He barely heard his father's shattered laughter but he could imagine the familiar hum of the Camero's engine in the background as Derek sped across town to get to him before the pain finally took him under.

 

**

 

"I don't know how to stop it."  
  
Grief filled his world but even as he blinked tired, soot-gritty eyes, Stiles knew it wasn't his own grief.  Derek's fingers ran through his hair and Stiles let the rest of the world fade a little at the feeling of the wolf so close.  
  
"Deaton?" his dad asked.  
  
"He's still looking," Scott answered from across the room.  Derek was annoyed that Scott was even in the room but Stiles still hadn't found a way to bridge the gap between them.  They'd been almost okay for a while there, when Scott had become an alpha and Derek had given up his spark to save his sister.  That was before the dreams had started though.  
  
It wasn't Derek's fault but Scott blamed him all the same since it had been his dream that Stiles first walked.  No one mentioned that Stiles had unknowingly and unwillfully invaded Derek's privacy in a terribly intimate way.  
  
Stiles had walked into each pack member’s dreams now and seen their greatest fears and their most secret desires; even the non-weres.  Derek was the only one he hadn't seen in the middle of some sort of fantasy but Stiles figured Derek was so consumed by guilt over everything that he didn't have the energy for fantasy anymore..  Hell, the guy probably blamed himself for the Titanic.  
  
Which sucked because of all the members of the pack, he wouldn't mind getting an eyeful of Derek au natural.  He took a deep breath and enjoyed what he could of Derek in real life instead.  He knew Derek had heard his breath because fingernails dug in lightly to scratch at his scalp and he leaned further into the touch.  
  
"What else can we try?" his dad asked.  
  
"You know what we need to do," Derek said sharply, even as his fingers remained gentle.  
  
"As your alpha I can't allow you to do that," Scott cut Derek off before he could say anything else.  Whatever it was, Stiles hadn't heard of it.  He was almost curious enough to get up and ask about it, but it hurt just to breathe so he stayed as he was.  
  
"I'm the only one that can do it, Scott, and you know it."  
  
There was a resigned sigh and Stiles knew what that was about.  Since he’d figured out how to wake the others, Stiles always woke before they got hurt.  It was only Derek's dreams that were a danger.  It was only in Derek’s dreams that they both woke up injured.  
  
"You're the only one that can calm him, Derek," his dad reminded Derek.  "No matter who he dreams with, you're the only one that can bring him back from this empathy thing that happens after."  
  
It was a fucked up cycle but, hey.  That was seriously his life.  
  
"The distance might-"  
  
"What the ever loving fuck?"  Stiles opened his eyes then and sat up.  Derek was scrambling up on the bed onto his elbows, obviously - from the wrinkled state of his shirt - having been Stiles' pillow for this conversation.  He understood then what Derek was saying and why no one had mentioned it to him.  Derek thought leaving the pack would make the issue disappear?  
  
Stiles’ head spun from the sudden change of position but he refused to let a little something like almost dying in a fire in Derek Hale's fucking dream to deter him from correcting the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.  
  
"You could have died, Stiles," Derek didn't look at all intimidated by Stiles’ best glare but he didn't stop.  "What you did ... to wake me up ..."  
  
Derek didn't finish and Stiles knew then that he hadn't told the others yet.  Yeah, that was something he didn't want to open up to the forum.  
  
"You woke, so no harm, no foul."  
  
"Smoke inhalation.  Stitches.  We had to remove a slice of a support beam that had broken off and embedded in your arm."  
  
"I know, Derek, but I'll heal.” That was true at least.  He could already breathe easier than he had when he had woken.  From the light out the window he couldn’t have been unconscious for more than an hour or two.  In two days he should be completely healed; by the end of the next evening if Derek stayed with him for a while.  “I heal faster from dream injuries than regular ones and when you’re with me it's even faster."  
  
"You shouldn't have to do this at all!" Derek roared his frustrations.  Isaac cowered while Scott instinctively shifted in front of the beta.  Derek wasn't aware of what he'd done though.  His focus was on Stiles alone.  
  
Stiles let out a deep breath because he knew.  Whatever else anyone said about Derek, no one could doubt that he cared deeply for his pack mates.  Seeing any of them hurt brought out a much different wolf ever since he’d returned from his trip with Cora.  
  
"Derek, please," he said, dropping the argument.  It wasn’t done but Derek wouldn’t try to leave while Stiles was hurt so he had time to remind Derek of why he needed to stay.  Healing Stiles was only one part of that.  He knew what Derek needed at the moment though and it was the same thing he did.  A chance to heal from what they’d just shared.  
  
He leaned back over to rest his head on Derek's chest and it only took a moment before Derek shuffled around to make them both comfortable.  
  
"Better?" Derek asked as they settled.  
  
Stiles just nodded as he nuzzled up against Derek's jaw.  The wolves were notorious snugglers and though Derek remained aloof most of the time, Stiles took advantage whenever he could.  When Derek's arms came around him and pulled him closer, Stiles knew he'd done the right thing.  
  
Stiles took a few deep breaths before he turned his head and settled his ear over Derek's heart.  He looked over at Scott and his dad and he knew that they, at least, understood what Derek refused to see.  Stiles might get hurt in Derek's dreams, but Derek was the only one that could actually heal the gaping wound of empathy the dreams opened in him.  
  
  
**  
  
Stiles woke mid-afternoon in his own bed with Derek still spooned around him.  He knew the others would be by later to check up on him but for now it felt good to lie where he was and relax.  It felt so good, in fact, that it took five minutes to realize it shouldn’t feel so good.  His body had been patched up but there was no pain and no grogginess from pain killers.  Not even Derek at his side made him heal that fast.  
  
When he opened his eyes and looked down at where Derek’s hand rested on his arm he could see the black veins that meant he was taking Stiles’ pain.  
  
“You don’t have to do that,” Stiles said quietly.  
  
Derek took a deep breath, scenting at the back of his neck, before he rubbed his hand up and down Stiles’ arm.  “Don’t have to but I’m going to.  You got hurt in my dream.”  
  
“So did you.  Because of me.”  
  
“That’s not true.”  
  
“It is and you know it.  I’m the one that causes it.  If I wasn’t then the others wouldn’t get hurt when I shifted into their dreams.  But they do.”  
  
“The others wake.  No one else hurts you the way I do,” Derek whispered.  
  
“No one else heals me like you do.  I don’t know why, but no one else can touch me when the empathy starts.  Why you?  Why not my best friend?  My alpha?” he asked.  Pack affected magic in a lot of ways and the security he felt with Derek should have been given by his alpha.  It made no sense that he could submit to Derek the way he did when they fought and struggled at every turn.  He had always been Scott’s pack, as much as a human could be, and it should be Scott he followed.  Derek was just a beta now and Stiles’ loyalty shouldn’t be divided but it was.         
  
Some days, he hated magic.  He hated pack.  He hated Derek and Scott and red eyes and nightmares that left him way too open to keep from admitting the truth to himself.  He really fucking hated being in love with Derek Hale.  
  
  
**  
  
  
Stiles tried not to scratch the healing wound on his arm but it was almost unbearable the next day.  History class had droned on and Stiles had been thankful for his button up as he clenched his fingers rhythmically to keep from touching his arm.  Thankfully it was cool enough that no one commented on the long sleeves.  Stiles just hoped it healed as quickly as the others had.  The last thing he needed was a scar to develop and Derek to feel guilty about that too.  
  
As soon as the bell rang, Stiles jumped up from his seat and ran out the door.  Scott was waiting for him which Stiles would have thought odd if it wasn’t for the fact that the pack always met him at the door after Stiles woke from a spirit walk.  In a couple days they’d stop being so melodramatic about it and the teasing would start again, but until then Stiles was their overly coddled human and he tried to take it with what grace he could.   
  
“So when did Derek start talking about leaving and why is this the first time I’ve heard about it?” Stiles asked as they walked towards the gym.  
  
Scott had the grace to look embarrassed.  “He mentioned it the first time you got hurt in his dreams.”  
  
“And you didn’t think to say anything to me?”  
  
“We told him that wasn’t an option Stiles.  I didn’t tell you about it because I thought we all agreed it was a bad idea.”  
  
“Wait, you actually considered it?”  
  
Scott stopped walking and moved them out of the main stream of traffic in the hallway.  “You were bleeding Stiles.  We didn’t understand about spirit walkers and you and Derek had both been cut up.  When your dad tried to touch you, you screamed and flinched away like his touch hurt worse than the cuts.”  
  
It had.  Stiles had blacked out from the pure pain of the psychic impact of his father’s emotions.  
  
“Derek has always been the one to force the empathy shut.  Why would he think he needed to leave?”  
  
“You were hurt in his dream, Stiles.”  
  
“The pain manifested first there.  I had already been walking in everyone’s dreams.  We just didn’t realize where it would lead until then.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you know Derek.  And the thing where he won’t let you wake him up doesn’t help.”  
  
Stiles let out a deep breath.  Derek always threw up extra safe guards in his mind to make sure that Stiles couldn’t touch him, like Derek wanted the nightmares to consume him.  
  
When Stiles first stepped into Derek’s dreams, there were some night Stiles knew Derek wanted to be destroyed by them.  At other times, Derek seemed to be struggling to come to terms with it on his own.  Stiles loved the brief glimpse into the things Derek tried to hide from him, but he hated the violation of seeing Derek’s visions without permission.  He also hated that Derek still had so many walls up, no matter how much he’d matured since Stiles had first seen him walking the woods of the Hale property.  
  
“And the thing where Derek is the only one that can heal me?”  
  
No one understood that.  Spirit walker or no, the healing seemed to be something specific to Derek and Stiles.  Deaton always said that he was looking into it but there was an appraising look in his eye when he spoke of it that always made Stiles suspect that Deaton already had a theory but he wasn’t sharing it with the pack.  
  
“You wouldn’t need him to heal you if he wasn’t there to hurt you,” Scott huffed.  
  
“Really?”  
  
“There’s a certain logic to it.”  
  
“How is that logic?  I might only get hurt in Derek’s dreams right now, but before we figured out how to wake the others, it was the entire pack.  If Derek left, how are we to know it won’t be someone else that hurts me?  Then how am I gonna heal?  Cause I gotta be honest, it’s getting kind of hard to lie about getting hurt in lacrosse practice when Coach is the one doing the asking.”  
  
“How bad is your arm today?” Scott asked as he tugged Stiles to start walking towards class again.  
  
“Okay.  Derek stayed last night.  Woke up with him pulling the pain away though.”  
  
“That’s good.”  
  
“I don’t like seeing any of you doing that for me.”  
  
“We can take it.”  
  
Stiles glared at Scott.  “So can I.”  
  
He didn’t let his friend say anything else, but turned into his classroom and left Scott gaping at the door before he had to run off to his own classroom.  
  
  
**  
  
Derek stared out of the balcony of his loft.  The sun was out today and there was a pleasant breeze blowing the scent of the city away and leaving him with the faintest hint of green grass and flowering trees.  He wanted to run to the Preserve but it would have to wait.  Unlike the days when he’d first arrived at Beacon Hills, he had a duty, a responsibility to others and his days of running from that were long done.  His pack needed him and that was what mattered.  
  
A knock on the door startled Derek out of his reverie.  He looked over at the computer desk that Stiles had nagged him into buying where Lydia and Stiles were working on some special project they weren’t currently sharing with the others.  Jackson, still trying to find his footing with his friends after everything they’d all been through, was at Danny’s tonight.  Scott was with Deaton but Isaac and Kira were at the large table doing homework, laughing together over something.  
  
They looked up briefly but as Derek went to the door, they went back to work.  Derek made a mental note to get more popcorn because it looked like Stiles had made the last bag.  Again.  Derek didn’t mind.  He liked the smell of popcorn more than he actually liked eating it, though there might be words if Stiles made another batch and forgot to eat it as he frequently did.  
  
He didn’t sense danger on the other side, though Derek would never think of the man on his doorstep as safe.  Chris Argent had a way of walking that was constantly on guard, continually prepared for an attack.  Derek assumed it was why he was still alive, a legend among hunters, and a warning to those that dared to cross the Beacon Hills area without his leave.  
  
Derek opened the door and stepped back to admit the man into the loft.  
  
“Derek,” Chris greeted him succinctly.   
  
Derek just gave a small nod of his head as he went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge for Chris.  He could tell Chris had been doing rounds in the forest from the scent of sweat and greenery that clung to him.  He handed the water to Chris who took it with a raised brow and a small smile.  Derek didn’t say anything but made note of the way Isaac stowed his books in his backpack as he spoke softly to Kira.  
  
“Isaac and I will be out of town next week.”  
  
“Isaac?”  
  
Chris nodded.  “He’s picked up the weapons training well.  I think it’s time he started to meet people.”  
  
“You think that’s a wise idea?”  Derek knew Chris wouldn’t willingly endanger Isaac by taking him to meet hunters who would accept a hunting werewolf, but just because Chris trusted them didn’t mean they were actually trustworthy.  Chris’s loyalty was a blessing the pack could count on but it was a double-edged sword, one that Chris and Derek had both been betrayed with before.  
  
“Allison wanted the family name to mean something and I intend to see that it does,” Chris said, soft enough that Derek would be the only one to hear him.  “Isaac can take over the family business when I can’t and I trust the pack to protect him if anyone would be stupid enough to move against him.”  
  
Derek nodded but it wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation.  That had been surreal and Derek had no desire to go through a similar discussion.  Chris had shown up at Derek’s loft with Melissa and the Sheriff in tow.  He’d been included in their discussion because the others had decided Derek was the most responsible member of the pack and even if he was no longer the alpha, he would keep them in line.  They’d then discussed the future of the pack and college applications and after school schedules. Derek had been left with a schedule that Melissa had tacked up on his fridge with the parent’s schedules, when he had ‘pack duty’ and a reminder to make them eat right and not let them have too much junk food on the weekends.  
  
“You know we would,” Derek assured him. That they would protect Chris Argent in the same manner didn’t need to be said but Chris was a man who didn’t need a reminder of who had his back.  He had his own and a trusted few and that was enough.  
  
“You’re leaving tonight?” Derek asked.  
  
“Tomorrow morning but it’ll be an early go so we’d better head out.  If I’m not mistaken, someone still needs to pack.”  
  
Derek didn’t need to turn to know that Isaac was right behind him.  Derek looked over his shoulder and smirked at the younger man.  He stood tall at Derek’s back but his expression was sheepish as he looked at Chris.  The time under Chris’s tutelage had been good for Isaac.  He didn’t try to hide himself anymore with rounded shoulders and downcast eyes.  No one would mistake Isaac for an alpha, the way he still looked to others for approval, but an alpha who took Isaac’s meekness for granted would regret it.  Isaac had learned to make better choices and he gave his submission where it was due.  That he still tilted his head to the side for Derek on occasion baffled Derek and made him grateful all the same that he’d come back and found a place among his pack again.  
  
“I just need to throw it all in a bag.  I have it ready.”  
  
Chris let out a huff at that but Isaac winked at Derek when Chris turned his back to head towards the door and Derek knew it was a bluff to get the hunter alone.  Derek wasn’t sure what Isaac needed to talk to him about but Derek knew manipulation when he saw it.  Good thing Isaac was a good kid or he might worry.  
  
“Take care, Isaac, and be safe.  Call and let us know how it’s going,” Derek reminded him.  Not for himself.  Melissa would lecture him the entire week if she didn’t get updates when she came to check on Scott if there wasn’t a recent report on how all the kids were doing.  
  
When the hell had Derek become a nanny for Scott’s pack?  
  
Isaac took a step closer and Derek pulled him in, rubbing his cheek lightly across Isaac’s to embed his scent there before he left.  There was a trace of them all on his skin but Derek’s would be strongest now.  
  
“Keep an eye on Stiles for us,” Isaac said as he pulled back slightly.  “His arm might be healed but I heard him tell Scott he’d stayed awake all last night catching up on school work.  Could be school work, but its Stiles, you know?”  
  
“I’ve got him,” Derek answered, because he did.  Stiles could have decided to pull an all-nighter because he needed to get caught up – or if his meds had been making him too antsy to sleep and he’d decided to get ahead of the game in case something nasty came their way again – but it was also possible that he’d avoided sleep to avoid spirit walking again.  
  
“I know you do.  Thanks.”  
  
“We’ll be back before Saturday morning training,” Chris told him and Derek breathed a little easier that it was a short trip.  Chris came and went as he wanted to in regards to pack-related events but he rarely missed their Saturday morning training sessions.  He usually took the human members of the pack and trained with them, though on a few occasions – most notably when one of the pack members became too cocky – Chris would take on one of the weres.  
  
Isaac and Chris left and Derek turned his eyes on the three remaining pack members in the house.  Kira’s parents were going to some fundraiser for the school and the Sheriff was working the night shift.  Derek never understood where Lydia’s mom was but she was likely there for dinner as well and Melissa said the kids needed to eat right.  Derek huffed a sigh because Scott would be there after his shift with Deaton and he’d need food too.  So, it seemed he needed to cook.  
  
When Derek began setting out the food he needed and Stiles joined him, an easy peace between them as Stiles made a tomato and mozzarella salad to go with the pasta Derek had just started.  He didn’t say anything but Derek made sure to lean into Stiles when he could.  He didn’t like to talk about it but he knew that his touch helped Stiles to heal and if there were some lingering effects from his dream the other night he wanted to do what he could to help Stiles.  
  
Maybe after dinner he’d let them pick a movie and he’d make sure Stiles sat next to him on the couch.  Not because Derek liked to make sure he was close, but Stiles didn’t actually dream when Derek touched him.  If Stiles had stayed up all night for fear of finding himself in Derek’s dreams once again, being near would give him a safe place to sleep for a change.  
  
Not because Derek liked him there.  
  
Stiles smiled as he hip checked Derek into the counter and laughed when Derek splashed him with the water he was getting for the pan.  Nope, not because Derek was beginning to crave Stiles’ company at all.  
  
Damn it.  
  
Derek couldn’t even lie to himself anymore.  
  
  
**  
  
The next afternoon turned out to be little different than the one before.  Derek made his rounds of the Preserve while the pack was at school but by the time he returned, Stiles was doing research on the computer while Derek puttered around the kitchen.  
  
When Stiles got bored he begged Derek to watch TV with him and he’d relented because of the dark circles under Stiles’ eyes.  When Stiles began to sag a little, Derek had put an arm around him and pulled him closer.  He didn’t stop until he had a nose full of Stiles’ scent and the young man was pressed up against him in enough places that sleep – and any healing he needed – was guaranteed.  
  
When Stiles fell asleep, Derek carried him gently to his bed and left him there, blankets pulled up under his chin and with Derek’s scent surrounding him.  He tried not to think about the fact that Stiles’ scent was mixing with Derek’s and he’d be able to smell him there when he went to bed later.  
  
He refused to sleep while Stiles seemed to be resting so well so he found a book on the shelf that he’d been meaning to read.  It was a gift from Scott of all people.  He’d been looking through it at the bookstore and run into Kira and Scott one afternoon.  After the initial surprise of seeing one another in public when no one’s life was actually threatened, they had lunch together.  When Scott ran off for a few minutes, Derek had enjoyed the conversation with Kira.  Then Scott had returned with the book in hand and a distinctly proud smile on his face when he’d handed it to Derek.  
  
He took a seat in Isaac’s favorite chair and settled in to read until Stiles woke.  
  
He didn’t know how long he’d been at it – 72 pages later though – but he was brought out of the story by a faint knock on the door.  He set the book down and looked back automatically to check on the sleeping figure on his bed before he let the Sheriff in.  
  
He stepped back and ushered the Sheriff in before he pointed to the bed at the back of the loft where Stiles slept.  
  
“Ah, wondered why it was so quiet when you opened the door,” the Sheriff said as he followed Derek in.  
  
“Isaac said he might have missed some sleep the other night,” Derek explained.  “He was looking tired when he showed up today.  I might have encouraged him to fall asleep on the couch.  He can stay if you don’t want to disturb him.”  
  
It wouldn’t be the first time one of the pack members had fallen asleep on his couch even if it was the first time Derek had put one of them to bed.  The Sheriff didn’t seem bothered by it and Derek refused to be uncomfortable with his choice.  
  
“That’s fine.  I have to get back in to the station. I just wanted to check up on him.”  
  
“Sheriff…”  
  
“John.  My name is John, Derek.”  
  
Derek gave the Sheriff a small smile.  No matter how many times the man told him, it just never felt right to call him by his name and not by the title.  He was a man to be respected; for the job he did and the work he did for the city as well as for how he’d raised Stiles and how he’d managed to keep his cool when he’d learned about weres and how his own son, human as he was, was wrapped up in all of it.  
  
“Right.  John.  I’m sorry about the other night.  I’ve been trying to make sure I don’t…”  
  
“Derek, don’t.  Of all the things I could ask you to apologize for over the past few years, this isn’t it.  What is happening now isn’t your fault.”  
  
“I hurt him.  Again.”  
  
“You healed him.  Again.”  
  
Derek gave a frustrated groan and the Sheriff let out an audible sigh.  “Why is it so hard for everyone to understand that I need to put some distance between us so Stiles doesn’t get hurt?”  
  
“Let me ask you this, son,” the Sheriff said softly.  “Stiles doesn’t have this empathy when he isn’t spirit walking.  He can’t control it and he doesn’t have the first idea how to.  We are no closer to understanding it than when it started, other than some veiled references Deaton has made about Stiles finding his neutral grounding and centering or whatever new age crap he was spilling that day.”  
  
Derek huffed at that because while he knew the importance of a good emissary and he appreciated the things Deaton did for the pack, he believed that the man knew more than he was telling them.  Derek believed Deaton had a reason to hold back though and he was willing to trust him so far as it didn’t go any further than it had.  
  
“If you leave, our best case scenario is that you get far enough away that Stiles can’t invade your dreams.  He’s still in everyone else’s though.”  
  
“He wakes before anyone gets hurt.”  
  
“But he wakes empathic still.  What happens when Stiles wakes and he can’t shut out what everyone else is feeling?”  
  
Derek could feel the sense-memory of emotions pressed around him, the cloying stench and whispered pains of people surrounding him.  The knowledge of things he shouldn’t know, pain of things that he’d never done.  He had a vague connection to them when he touched Stiles after a nightmare and he helped Stiles find a way to close the door to that particular talent.  He didn’t know how or why it worked with him, but it did.  He couldn’t imagine what Stiles would go through if he couldn’t close it out.  
  
“I can’t-” The Sheriff’s stuttered words made Derek look away from his own remembrance to the pain in the other man’s eyes.  “You need to stay, Derek.  I can’t send him to Eichen house again.”  
  
Derek closed his eyes at the thought and he could almost feel the Sheriff’s pain as if he were connected to Stiles and he were listening in at that very moment.  Maybe a stronger man would make another choice, but Derek did the only thing he was capable of doing.  “I’ll stay.”

 

**

 

This was bad.  Really bad.  Like, epic in the grand scale of life and death situations a definite ten.  Stiles couldn’t even see Derek.  The woods were shrouded in a purple-grey fog that he knew wasn’t natural.  It wasn’t even the color that set him running from it, but the feel of death it pushed before it.  
  
“Derek!” Stiles knew he was dreaming and Derek was in the forest somewhere.  
  
Stiles stopped running as he heard a howl break through the silence of the night.  Derek was to the east and Stiles just needed to get to the werewolf before the fog got to him.  Deaton wasn’t entirely sure Stiles would be able to stay in one of the pack’s nightmares if they were dying in it.  He thought he might be thrust out of the nightmare before it happened and therefore the other person would wake before it could kill them but Stiles didn’t want to test that theory anytime soon.  Especially since he didn’t believe a word of it.  
  
He tripped over a log and rolled down a hillside and threw himself back up into a run.  When he turned to look back over his shoulder at the fog, it seemed to slow.  He yelped in joy at the prospect but tripped again and found himself face down on the nemeton.  
  
He threw himself back, shuffling in an awkward crabwalk from the monstrous stump before he stopped.  He didn’t trust the nemeton or the magic it brought to life but Stiles couldn’t help the feeling that the nemeton was protecting itself and that he was safe here in this circle.  Or at least safe from the fog.  
  
“Derek!  Follow my voice!”  Stiles shouted out into the darkness.  He heard a howl in response, pained but closer, and Stiles hoped Derek was as good at tracking as he’d always claimed he was.  
  
The wind blew across the clearing and Stiles looked up to see the Hunter’s Moon low over the trees.  It was blood red and Stiles shivered at the thought of a blood moon in Derek’s dream.  He let out a deep breath and called Derek’s name again and heard the howl even closer now.  
  
Great, he was in the most fucked up game of ‘Marco Polo’ ever.  
  
The wind changed direction suddenly and Stiles noticed the fog around him as it began to swirl.  It hadn’t come closer to the nemeton but it had begun to creep close around him.  He was going to be trapped there -with Derek on the other side.  
  
“Derek!  The fog is closing in!  You have to hurry!”  Not that he thought Derek was taking a leisurely stroll but Stiles hoped the urgency – not panic, he was not panicking at the thought of Derek stuck out there on one side of the fog and him trapped in the center – of his voice gave the werewolf some speed.     
  
He could hear Derek approach but even as he willed the other man faster, Stiles watched as the fog encircle him.  “Damn it!” he screamed at the clearing.  
  
Derek howled in pain and Stiles could see him at the other side of the fog as the tendrils began to seek Derek out.  His skin burned with each touch and Stiles knew then what caused the purple tint in the fog now.  Wolfsbane.  
  
“Derek!  Wake up!  It’s just a dream!”  It was pointless but he had to do something.  He saw Derek as he began climbing one of the great trees to get out of the way of the fog.  It would keep him safe a little while but he couldn’t stay up there forever.  
  
“Get out, Stiles!” Derek said around a mouthful of fanged teeth.  His blue eyes could see better in the dark than Stiles’ human ones but he ignored the way Stiles shook his head.  “Get out of here!”  
  
Stiles turned away from Derek and looked around the clearing.  There was nothing to help him, nothing to stop the fog, except the nemeton.  
  
“God damn it.  You have caused us nothing but trouble,” Stiles yelled at the tree stump.  He looked at it and noticed the small branches that dotted the edges and the new growth at the center.  “Tonight, you’re going to help instead.”  
  
He didn’t know what he was doing but Deaton said he had a spark of something and he was a spirit walker on top of that.  He had magic and while he didn’t have the belief Deaton said he needed to perform real magic, Stiles had a need to believe tonight and a determination to make it happen.  
  
He stumbled up onto the stump and pulled the fresh leaves from the center and began to crumple them between his palms.  “If you can protect yourself from this damn fog then you can protect Derek from it too.”  
  
He cupped his hands and blew lightly on the inside where the leaves were, willing them to dry.  He didn’t dare to look to see if it worked but instead he walked to the edge of the fog closest to Derek.  “Give him a pathway.”  
  
He closed his eyes and held desperately to the idea that the leaves, powdered in his hands, could make a path, much like he’d once draw a circle of mountain ash with a little dust and his belief.  
  
He threw his hands out and screamed, “Give him a path!”  
  
He opened his eyes in time to see the fog spreading away and a thin fox-like figure ran through the fog, clearing the way.  “Derek!”  
He didn’t need to call his name because Derek had seen what had happened and he was already on his way down from his perch in the tree.  He reached the small fox and the two ran together, the fog catching at Derek’s heels or arms a couple times but the man hunched in on himself to make himself a smaller target as he ran.  
  
Derek didn’t stop running until he had an arm wrapped around Stiles.  For a second, Stiles stared up at Derek and he could feel everything.  It wasn’t just empathy around him and the feel of others, but there was something connecting him to Derek.  Derek’s eyes went alpha-red and Stiles gasped but before he could speak the world went black.  
  
  
**  
  
  
Stiles woke to the blackness of his room, his father standing guard over his bed with his gun pulled.  He bled anxiety and fear into the room and Stiles had a hard time breathing through the emotions he caught from his father.  Love, exasperation, terror, but beneath it all, determination and grim pride.  
  
“Dad?”  
  
“Stiles?  Thank god.  Are you okay?  We need to get out of here.”  
  
“What’s going on?”  
  
“I’ll explain on the way kiddo.  Are you hurt?”  
  
“I need to get to Derek.”  
  
“Is he still… stuck?”  
  
“No, I got to him.  I’m still open.”  
  
“Can you make it to the car or is the jeep easier for you?”  
  
They’d never discussed traveling when Stiles was in such a state but he was grateful his father had thought it through.  Sometimes objects held a psychic impression of what had happened before.  As much nasty stuff as Stiles knew had happened in the back of his father’s car, he’d never been a part of it.  There were too many bad memories in the jeep and as much as he loved her, he needed to keep his head clear.  
  
“The cruiser is good, just let me sit up front.”  
  
“Honestly son, I’m surprised you haven’t ended up in the back yet.”  His father teased as Stiles got out of bed and found his clothes.  He was still on alert but his father had always been good at putting on a brave front when he thought Stiles needed it.  
  
“Where are we going?” Stiles finished pulling his shirt over his head then slipped his feet into his shoes.  His emergency bag was by the door, along with his bat.  He grabbed both as his dad stepped into the hallway.  Stiles watched with a growing sense of anxiety as his father walked out of his bedroom, checking for possible danger.  
  
“Dad?”  
  
“Just watch my back and stay close Stiles.  I’ll explain in the car.”  
  
He might have continued to push except that his empathy told him his father was deadly serious and there was a real threat.  There was no telling how long he’d been in Derek’s dream with his father standing guard over him.  
  
Stiles tried to work it out as they walked together down the hall and towards the stairs but there were no pieces to put together.  
  
Things had been quiet in Beacon Hills since the departure of the nogitsune.  Other than Stiles’ newfound ability to spirit walk and the occasional pack or hunter that wanted to cross their territory, the pack hadn’t been this secure since they’d formed.  
  
It made no sense that they were being attacked in their home like this.  Unless it wasn’t supernatural in origin but someone that had decided to come after his dad.  He was a good cop and a better sheriff, especially now that he had all the pieces.  If it was human, they’d find something they hadn’t expected.  Stiles and his dad weren’t about to go down without taking a swing at whoever threatened them.  
  
The way was clear and they paused at the bottom of the stairs before moving on again.  “Stay behind me, son.”  
  
“Dad, I’m not letting you-“  
  
“Shut up Stiles.  Stay behind me and get the car unlocked.  Then scoot over to the other seat.”  
  
Stiles could feel that there was no point in arguing with his dad and he took a deep breath.  He wanted to do something more than hide behind his dad but Stiles couldn’t do anything but take the keys when his dad handed them over, careful to drop them instead of touch Stiles.  
  
If he was a superhero, he’d be able to cast out his empathy and feel if anyone was there.  In reality, Stiles had no control over his ability and the only times he’d touched anyone other than Derek, it had ended in enough pain to cause him to black out and a subsequent week’s worth of emotional instability as he tried to process what his brain had learned through the brief touches.  
  
When his father moved calmly out the door, Stiles followed him, his eyes still searching for something. The driver’s side was thankfully blocked by the jeep and Stiles and his dad were able to take cover there. Stiles got the door open and threw his bag and bat across the car then shimmied across.  “I’m in,” he called out to his dad.  
  
He put the keys in the ignition and had it started before his father sat down and slammed the door closed.  He peeled out of the driveway and took off, though Stiles noticed he didn’t turn on the emergency lights.  
  
“Dad?”  
  
“Call Argent.  The pack is being attacked.  He warned me but I don’t know anything more than that.  He said to get to Derek’s loft.”  
  
Stiles called Argent’s line and put it on speaker but there was no answer.  “Chris, I’m awake and we’re on our way.  Hope you’re there.”  
  
He didn’t dare leave more.  He tried not to think about why Chris Argent wouldn’t answer his phone but he refused to believe anything bad had happened to him.  He could feel the concern creeping into his dad’s thoughts though.  
  
“He’ll be okay Dad.  Chris is a badass.”  
  
“Language, Stiles.”  
  
“Come on, Dad, I think this warrants a little language.”  
  
His dad didn’t answer but Stiles could feel the smug affection from his father and that at least felt better than the anxiety his father was pushing at him.  
  
“How are you feeling, kiddo?”  
  
“Hyped-up.  Anxious.  Scared.  Going out of my mind with worry.”  
  
“How is Derek going to be when we get to him?”  
  
“Uninjured.”  
  
“That’s a first.”  
  
It was the first time he’d had a chance to think about it and now that he was, he couldn’t help but realize that this dream had been different than the others.  “Most of Derek’s nightmares are really personal,” he voiced.  He didn’t usually talk about what he saw there and Derek was terse when he had to explain any injuries Stiles got in them.  It was private and Stiles tried not to reveal anything he learned, not even about Jackson who wasn’t quite the douchebag he’d been when he left Beacon Hills.  
  
“He doesn’t dream about fears really.  He punishes himself with his nightmares,” Stiles continued.  “This wasn’t like that at all.  I was running in the forest for hours before I found him.  When I did, we got cut off from each other.”  
  
His phone rang and he answered without looking for the id.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“I got Lydia out and we’re headed to Derek’s,” Jackson answered quickly.  
  
“What the hell was it?” Stiles asked.  
  
“Another pack.  I was at Lydia’s when three betas came out of nowhere and attacked us.”  
  
“Shit, how did you get out?”  
  
“Lydia isn’t stupid.  She’s been planning in case something did happen.  She has a wolfsbane spray.”  
  
“Lydia made wolf mace?”  
  
“Yeah.   She promises you some now that it’s been field tested.  Between the two of us we got past them and ran.  Got a message from Argent saying to head to the loft.  Where are you?”  
  
“Dad and I are pulling up now.”  
  
“See you in two.”  
  
Stiles hung up and looked at his dad.  “Wait for Jackson.  We’re better off going in together.”  
  
Annoyance brushed him quickly and he realized he had just given his dad orders but his dad didn’t say anything.  Jackson was there less than a minute later and they ran into the building together.  
  
“Lydia, you okay?” His father asked before Stiles could.  He wanted to check on her himself but he pushed himself against the wall of the front entryway, back into a corner as far away from the others as he could be.  It was too much, all three of them there with their emotions on overload.  
  
“We’re fine.  Stiles?”  
  
“Stay back,” he answered softly.  Concern and desperation radiated from the others.  “I just need to get to Derek.”  
  
“Shit, he had a dream?”  
  
“Stiles said Derek was uninjured,” the Sheriff relayed.  
  
Normally, Stiles would marvel over the way his pack had pulled together in the last year but it was too hard to think with their emotions around him.   
  
“Can he move?” Jackson asked.  
  
“Stiles?”  
  
“I … yeah.  Just give me a minute.”  He took a deep breath to steal himself to move closer to the source of anxiety but he wasn’t quite ready.  
  
“Shit,” Jackson muttered.  It would have been slow going except Jackson pulled out his phone.  “Derek, is the building safe?”  Stiles didn’t hear the answer but Jackson kept going.  “We have Stiles on the stairs.  I don’t think he’s making it up on his own.”  
  
Stiles couldn’t hear what they were telling him but he felt the others back away. Then he felt the calm collectedness that was Chris Argent even under attack and just behind that was Derek.  
  
The others parted but Stiles didn’t move.  Derek didn’t stop and it wasn’t until Derek had his arms around him that Stiles could breathe again.  
  
“Derek, we need to get upstairs,” Chris reminded them.  
  
Derek didn’t say anything to Stiles but he knew what the werewolf was going to do anyways.  He was still too open to speak, too caught up in what was happening and the relief he felt because Derek was there to buffer him from the outside.  He put his arms around Derek’s neck as Derek picked him up.  
  
The closeness gave him the chance to begin his recovery and he let out a shuttered breath.  “The others?”  
  
“Isaac came with Chris.  Parrish is safe at the station and won’t leave until we tell him it’s safe or we decide to go get him.  Scott and Melissa made it ten minutes ago with Kira and her parents’ right behind them.”  
  
“What took you so long?” Chris asked the others.  
  
“We were attacked at Lydia’s,” Jackson answered succinctly.  
  
“I couldn’t touch Stiles.  He was still dreaming,” the Sheriff answered.  “We didn’t have any trouble though.”  
  
They made it up to Derek’s loft and Derek sat on the couch with Stiles still wrapped around him.  Derek slid his hands up under Stiles’ shirt and Stiles let out a deep breath.  “Better?” Derek asked.  
  
Stiles nodded but kept his head buried in Derek’s shoulder.  “What the hell happened tonight?”  
  
“Stiles, are you okay?” Scott asked before he could say anything else.  Stiles pulled away from Derek enough to look at the others.  Scott crouched down in front of him and while there were no marks on him, there was fresh blood on his shirt.  Kira’s clothes were blood-splattered too, as was Noshiko’s.  Her father, Ken, seemed clean and Melissa was looking them all over.  
  
“I’m good dude.  Just stay back a little longer.”  
  
Scott took the hint and he settled on the floor across from them.  The others pulled up around them and Stiles was able to see the whole pack.  He closed his eyes briefly and let out a sigh of relief.  
  
“More space?” Scott asked, but Derek shook his head.  
  
“He’s fine.  That’s just relief that everyone is here.  Chris, you want to tell us what’s happening?”  
  
“It looks like the only people that weren’t attacked were you and Stiles,” Chris answered.  “I was heading to bed when Isaac came thundering down the stairs.  He smelled something unfamiliar in the house and realized it was the scent of unknown weres.  We were attacked by four werewolves.  We killed two but the other two got away before we could stop them.  I started making calls while Isaac drove us here.”  
  
“I was actually at Kira’s,” Scott said.  “Mom and I were just going to leave when a group of weres attacked.  Mrs. Yukimura was amazing.”  
  
“You weren’t bad yourself, Scott,” she said with a small nod of her head.  “There were eight of them.  I’m assuming by the numbers they had been watching us and knew we were together.”  
  
“So a new pack is trying to take our territory?” Scott asked.  “That doesn’t make any sense.”  
  
“And why wouldn’t they attack Derek and Stiles at the same time?” Lydia asked.  
  
Stiles looked at Derek and the beta nodded his approval.  Stiles pulled away from Derek though Derek shifted on the couch so that Stiles was pressed between him and the arm.  No one could touch Stiles until Derek was ready to let them and Stiles was fine with that.  
  
“Because we already were.  It can’t be a coincidence that this happened on the same night as this weird-ass dream.”  
  
Derek nodded.  “It wasn’t a usual nightmare.”  
  
“When are they anymore?” Isaac asked.  
  
Stiles gave a small huff of laughter at that but Isaac was one of the few who hadn’t been bothered by the thought of Stiles in his nightmares.  Some of the others had a harder time with it, but Isaac’s biggest fear had been helplessness.  Chris, Derek, and Scott had done a fair job of helping him deal with the overwhelming fear he’d once had of his father.  Being a werewolf, as well as the training the others had given him, had taken care of the rest.  After a bad nightmare, Isaac was as likely to come find Stiles and say, “that sucked” as he was to just ignore it completely.  No harm.  No foul.  Not everyone was so nonchalant about the way Stiles invaded their nightmares.  
  
“This was…” Derek took a deep breath and Stiles knew he was searching for the words to describe it.  He never talked about his nightmares and Stiles wasn’t sure he would.  He’d figured Derek would walk out when it came time and leave Stiles to fill in the blanks.  
  
“It was prolonged,” Derek finally said.  “My nightmares generally happen quickly.  Something attacks.  Something bad happens.  This was almost like being hunted.”  He looked at Stiles then for confirmation.  “It felt like something wanted to keep us there.”  
  
“Both of us,” Stiles added.  “Jesus, something is stalking us in your dreams.”  
  
“A dream stalker?” His dad asked aloud.  Stiles didn’t need empathy to hear the exasperation in his voice.  
  
“There is a lot of lore about dreams, Mr. Stilinski,” Lydia answered.  
  
“You don’t need to remind me, Lydia.  I did all the reading when this first started,” his dad reminded them.  Not just the research the others had put together but anything he could get his hands on.  He’d been to Deaton umpteen times and taken ancient tomes from whatever library Deaton pulled them from.  
  
“I thought we agreed that Stiles was the one responsible for what was happening though?”  
  
“I am,” Stiles answered before anyone could answer.  “That doesn’t mean something else isn’t here.  The nemeton was in Derek’s dream too.  It … it helped me get to him.”  
  
“I think we need to call Deaton again,” Chris said.  “He was at the clinic when I called to warn him.”  
  
His dad already had his phone out.  “Working on it.”  
  
“For now,” Chris Argent spoke to the group.  “I think it’s safe to say we need to stick together.”  
  
No one spoke about what to do next.  Deaton said he’d be by in the morning.  Chris set up a watch schedule while Lydia and Jackson pulled up the security system Chris had outfitted Derek with.  The rest of them found a place to settle in for the night and tried to get some sleep.  
  
  
**  
  
  
Derek couldn’t help himself.  He knew Stiles wasn’t ready to face the others alone yet.  It took time to get Stiles completely closed off and with the rush of adrenaline from the attacks he knew it was going to take longer than usual.  His bed was a no- go since he wasn’t about to do that in front of the others.  Not that they hadn’t seen him and Stiles in compromising positions before but tonight he felt too raw, too exposed.  It wasn’t the same and every instinct in him was telling him to take Stiles and mark him, to claim him, to protect him as only he could.  So he shepherded Stiles up the spiral stairs to the extra room.  
  
Stiles let himself be led and Derek didn’t question how docile the young man was.  Stiles had chosen Derek as an anchor for some reason he didn’t understand and Derek had accepted that.  He never let himself question why he’d never fought against it.  Derek wasn’t above ignoring what he didn’t want to deal with.  
  
As soon as Derek opened the door Stiles dropped onto the bed.  There was nothing else in the room except a small table and chair, and the bed was just a box spring with a mattress resting on the floor.  
  
Derek dropped down beside him but he grabbed Stiles as he did and rolled them until Stiles was half on top of him.  Stiles didn’t argue and Derek just pulled and tugged until he could get a nose full of Stiles’ scent.  He pushed his hands up under Stiles shirt again, but Stiles pulled away slightly.  Derek was about to ask but then Stiles had his shirt off and his hands were pulling at Derek’s.  He understood then and without question took his own off.  Bare skin was better, he thought as Stiles settled his head in the crook of Derek’s neck.  
  
“Better?” Derek asked with a soft huff.  
  
“Much,” Stiles answered quietly.  
  
“They’ll figure this out.  Deaton will know something.”  
  
“Deaton will stare suggestively at us for two minutes, tell us he’s heard of something but he needs to do more research, then disappear until we’ve figured it all out and tell us it’s what he thought all along.  There might be some ear scratches for Scott for being a good little alpha.”  
  
Derek huffed out a laugh and couldn’t keep from smiling at the image.  “Deaton does what he can,” but there was still laughter in his voice.  “Besides, we have Lydia and Chris and you.  Between the three of you, I think we can figure this out.”  
  
“And you don’t count in that equation?” Stiles asked as he looked up at Derek.  
  
Derek hated the looks Stiles gave him sometimes.  Stiles trusted him and it wasn’t that Derek wouldn’t try or that Derek doubted himself, but they’d been up against a lot of nastiness and there were only so many times any person could fight before they lost a round.  Derek had lost a lot of rounds already and what he hated was the thought that Stiles could trust him so completely and that one day he’d look down and that look would be gone.  
  
“I do my best.  For now, I’ll let you brainiacs figure it out.  I’m here to keep your emotional stuffing together.  If that’s possible,” he teased.  
  
Stiles smiled and it was the first one Derek had seen tonight.  It was a good sign that the empathy was beginning to fade and that Derek had made the right move to physically distance them from the others for a little while.  
  
Stiles settled against his side again and Derek could feel something different from Stiles.  “What are you doing?”  
  
“I just … it’s like this itch.  I was too open downstairs and I focused on you instead.”  
  
“That’s what you normally do, isn’t it?” Derek asked.  They didn’t really talk about it in detail.  As much as Stiles bitched about Derek being too stoic, Stiles was deceptively good at moving conversations away from his own personal issues.  
  
“Yeah, I mean I just focus on you and what you’re feeling.  I always figured it was the whole having to control your wolf thing that made you easier to focus on.  You have control of your emotions unlike most of the others.”  
  
“Your dad?”  
  
“Not a good choice.  Chris is the only other one that doesn’t hurt to be around when this starts but to be honest, it creeps me out a little.  I can feel the emotions are there, but it’s like they’re all bundled up and tied away.  He’s so compartmentalized he’s gonna blow the fucking roof off one of these days.”  
  
“Chris will pull through.  He’s a survivor.”  
  
“He’s got Isaac.  It’s become his saving grace.”  
  
“For the both of them, I think,” Derek admitted.  As much as he wished he’d been able to do right by Isaac, he’d done the right thing by sending him away before the alpha pack could hurt him worse.  It was still a dick move, but Derek didn’t care so long as Isaac survived.  
  
“Tonight, when you found me in the dream, it wasn’t the same.”  
  
Derek rolled Stiles off him and sat up on one elbow to look down at him.  He had so many conflicting emotions about Stiles and he knew they all had to be on the surface for Stiles to feel tonight.  He hated it but Stiles had never commented on what he felt.  And Derek had never delved into the tangle of emotions he felt on these nights either.  Derek wasn’t an empath like Stiles but the other man pushed enough emotion at him that he did sense it. Derek didn’t know what that meant or how he did it.  It wasn’t always comfortable but it helped Stiles shut it off and that was what was important.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Just that split second before I woke, it wasn’t just you or just me.  I felt…”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Connected to you.”  
  
Stiles whispered the words and Derek wanted him to take them back but even if he did it wouldn’t change the truth.  Whatever had happened, they had been tied together.  He couldn’t deny it.  He didn’t even want to.  
  
“Stiles.”  
  
Stiles closed the distance between them, his head buried in the crook of Derek’s neck again as he pulled Derek down on top of him.  Derek trailed his nose over the soft flesh of Stiles’ neck and took a deep breath.  
  
“I need…” Stiles whispered.  He didn’t say anything else but without warning Derek felt the sharp bite of teeth where his neck and shoulder met.  
  
Derek moaned against the pain but it sent shivers down his spine and the crushing need to return the bite.  He wrapped his arms under Stiles’ shoulders and held him closer as he returned the bite with human teeth.  Stiles bit harder and Derek could smell blood in the air.  
  
Derek teased the skin between his own teeth and sucked hard enough to bruise.  He could feel Stiles’ heart speed up under him, taste his excitement and Derek bit just hard enough to break the skin.  Stiles hissed and pulled at Derek harder.  Derek released the skin and licked at the broken flesh.  It wouldn’t heal as fast as his would but Derek knew it would heal far quicker than he wanted.  For once, he wanted to see Stiles’ skin bruised and broken.  
  
He pulled away slightly and it was only then that Stiles let him free.  Derek turned his head slightly to rest his forehead against Stiles’ temple.  
  
“I can still feel it,” Stiles said into the quiet between them.  “The empathy, it’s closed to everyone else but you’re still wide open.”  
  
Derek had an idea of what it was, a fear, but he couldn’t deny how much he wanted it to be right.  “I know.  I can feel it, too.  It’s okay Stiles.  It’s okay for us to have this.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Derek nodded.  He wasn’t ready to face the questions he knew he’d see in Stiles’ eyes so he turned them over again and pulled Stiles until his head was resting on Derek’s chest.  “Go to sleep Stiles.  They’ll be up here soon enough to pick that brain of yours.”  
  
Stiles let out a small huff.  “And what happened just now?”  
  
“Will still have happened when you wake up.  We’ll discuss it then.”  
  
He didn’t know if Stiles could feel his hesitancy to talk about it just yet, but to his surprise the younger man let it go.  
  
“Good night, Derek.”  
  
“Good night, Stiles.”  
  
The night would be long and Derek wouldn’t sleep.  He could give Stiles what comfort he could before the others found something for them to work on though.

 

**

 

“There’s someone pulling up to the building.”  
  
Stiles looked up from the computer where he and Lydia were doing research.  He kept begging them to let him go home and grab his laptop  but Chris and his dad were pretty adamant about keeping everyone together until they figured out who this new threat was.  
  
Until then, he was stuck sharing the computer.  Not that he minded sharing with Lydia but they could get twice the work done with another laptop.  
  
“Peter,” Chris said as he looked up at the others.  “And it looks like he’s brought company.”  
  
Stiles could feel the anger seeping from Derek at the mention of his uncle’s name. Underneath were a lot of emotions that were harder to read.  Betrayal was high among them, but also disappointment and an overwhelming sadness.  Nothing showed on Derek’s face but Stiles knew better.  
  
The pack stood to face the door but Stiles held Derek towards the back.  His father and Chris were there as well.  Derek didn’t look happy about it, but then again Stiles wasn’t happy that they were letting Peter into the loft at all.  
  
The door to the loft creaked open and Peter walked in with ten betas at his back.  Stiles could feel Derek’s reaction to each one and it was only Peter himself that worried Derek.  
  
“What do you want, Peter?” Scott asked abruptly.  
  
No one could blame him for disliking Peter after all this time.  Peter had only become more and more of a creeper over the years and it wasn’t like he’d started off on a good foot with them.  
  
“Look at that.  The True Alpha himself.  I knew we didn’t send enough betas to deal with you.”  
  
“It looks like you didn’t send enough betas to deal with any of us,” Scott answered smugly.  
  
Peter smiled widely.  “Oh I don’t know about that Scott.  You’re all here, aren’t you?”  
  
“Stop playing games, Peter.  What do you want?” Derek asked.  Stiles took a step closer to Derek but Peter’s eyes zeroed in on them.  
  
“What I’ve always wanted.  I am the Alpha,” Peter’s eyes blazed red and Derek stiffened at Stiles’ side.  Stiles felt the wave of horror but he had his own fear growing steadily.  “This pack is mine.  I bit Scott.  I was the Alpha and you had no right to steal it from me, Derek.  No right to hand our family’s territory over to a sniveling brat who doesn’t know how to wield real power.”  
  
“And you thought you’d what?  Kill an alpha and bring his pack into the territory?  Kill us all?”  
  
“I’m willing to make a few concessions for family.  You can keep your pet if you’d like.  I offered Stiles the bite once before and I have to admit that I’ve regretted not just doing it ever since.  It would have to be a term of his survival of course, but I’m sure he’ll survive the bite.”  
  
“I think we have to say no,” Scott interrupted.  
  
“I wasn’t talking to you!” Peter screamed at Scott.  
  
The betas with Peter shifted and the pack reacted as well; the wolves shifted as the others pulled weapons.  
  
“Wooohhhooo!” Stiles yelled into the room.  “Everyone calm the hell down.”  
  
“Stiles, stay back,” Derek warned him softly.  
  
“Yes, Stiles, do stay down like a good pup.  The grown-ups need to have a talk.  Now, Derek, as I said you can keep Stiles.  Scott will have to go of course but I’m willing to let you take care of that loose end so long as you submit to me as your Alpha.  The rest of the pack will be on probation if you will.  Those that follow me, remain.  Those that don’t will be put down.”  
  
“Do you think anyone in this room would ever trust you enough to follow you, Peter?” Derek asked.  
  
“Well, I did try.  Remember what I said boys,” Peter said to the betas behind him.  “Derek and Stiles unharmed.”  
  
Everything was in motion then and Stiles was pushed back behind his father.  The betas were fast and though the pack wasn’t outnumbered the other pack was full of fighters.  Lydia’s wolfsbane mace might be genius but it didn’t work when she was close to their own.  Stiles couldn’t get to his bat and neither Ken nor Melissa were trained to fight.  
  
Derek joined the fight and Stiles was left dizzy with the pure force of his anger.  He felt his father move away, but he couldn’t follow.  Whatever had happened between he and Derek, the empathy was too much and he felt the pain Derek felt as one of the betas swiped across his chest.  
  
Derek growled and Stiles reeled but before he could lose his footing he felt a hand pressed around his neck as he was pulled back against someone’s chest.  
  
“Derek!” Peter yelled across the room.  
  
Stiles wanted to curse because he’d been the weak one again, the weak link that got the others caught but he didn’t have time to deal with his own bullshit yet.  
  
“Really, Peter?  You’re not going to kill me,” Stiles said, just to keep Peter talking.  Derek might prefer to shut his uncle up but Stiles was good with words so long as it meant no one was killed.  Noshiko and Kira were holding their own against a couple betas with Melissa and Ken behind them.  Jackson looked worse for wear and blood seeped down his leg and across his shoulder but Lydia stood as his side, Stiles’ bat in her hands.  His father and Chris were back to back in the middle of the room close to Isaac and Derek.  
  
“Oh, I know.  And so do they.  But that doesn’t mean I won’t bite you Stiles.  What do you think?  Would you be strong enough to defy your Alpha?”  
  
Derek roared from across the room and the betas cowered with shock.  As Stiles watched, Derek’s eyes turned from brilliant blue to alpha- red just as they had in the dreams.  “I am his alpha!”  Derek charged before Peter could get over his shock and he barely released Stiles to run before Derek was there.  Derek pulled Stiles against his chest, cradled him there as if he’d been hurt, but he roared again and two of the enemy betas cowered again beneath his anger.  Chris put bullets in both of them but Stiles couldn’t see much more of the fight.  
  
He heard Peter fleeing from the pack but not without throwing out a threat as he did.  Scott and Isaac ran out the door to try to track them at Chris’s orders but Derek clung to Stiles.  He wasn’t shifted human yet and Stiles didn’t think he was capable of that level of control at the moment.  
  
He had felt the moment Peter threatened him, felt the pull of their connection as Derek’s eyes turned red and his alpha powers returned to him.  He’d never expected to see Derek’s red-eyed gaze outside his dreams again but he was so fucking grateful for it now.  
  
“Derek?”  
  
He looked up at Derek who tried to keep Stiles face buried away from the danger but Stiles pushed and prodded until Derek let him.  “Derek, shift back buddy.  Come on.  You can’t do something like that and not talk to me.”  
  
“Stiles, are you sure it’s such a good idea to talk to him right now?” his father asked.  
  
“He’d never hurt me, Dad,” Stiles reminded him.  “Derek, come on.  Peter is gone.”  
  
Derek growled low in his throat but Stiles watched as his face shifted.  His eyes remained red but he was no longer in werewolf form.  
  
“What the hell just happened?” Scott didn’t come closer, which Stiles was immensely grateful for, but Derek pulled Stiles tighter against his body in response to the other alpha in the room.  
  
Derek looked up at Scott, at all the others with his red eyes.  “I’m an Alpha.”  
  
“How the hell did that happen?” Jackson asked.  
  
Derek looked down at Stiles.  “I have no idea.”  
  
Stiles let out a deep breath.  “Good thing Deaton is coming in the morning.”  
  
“I think I’ll get him sooner than that,” Scott said as he pulled out his phone.  As much as Stiles wanted to argue that he really wanted some sleep he knew that was out of the question.  Instead, he pushed Derek down onto the couch and made sure he was pressed against him from shoulder to ankle as the others began to pick up their pieces again.  
  
  
**  
  
In the end, Deaton didn’t show up until morning because – as Stiles had predicted – it all sounded very interesting, Deaton had no idea what could cause any of it, but he needed to do some research before he came over.  The Sheriff picked Parrish up from the station and then went to the clinic to pick up Deaton in case there was any trouble but Deaton seemed to have been the only one that wasn’t attacked in some way that night.  
  
They all sat around Derek’s loft and pulled in close when Deaton arrived.  “It sounds like you’ve had an eventful night.  Scott told me about it over the phone but I think there is more he isn’t aware of.  Stiles? Derek?”  
  
Stiles looked at Derek and as much as Derek wanted to pass this along to Stiles to explain, the younger man was still dealing with the newfound empathy between them.  It hadn’t actually shut off between them since the bite.  Derek had more practice controlling his emotions than Stiles did so he seemed to have an easier time keeping what he felt from Stiles in context.  
  
Derek nodded to Stiles and let out a deep breath.  He jumped straight into the details of the last dream and the differences between it and the others.  He didn’t leave out any of the things he normally would.  As much as Deaton often held back information, Derek knew there were good reasons for it.  When he could, Deaton shared.  Derek just needed to give him all the information there was.  
  
“And you woke up with this connection?”  
  
“It was there.  It became stronger after we got to the loft,” Derek confirmed.  
  
Deaton tilted his head ever so slightly.  “How so?”  
  
“Stiles,” he hesitated as he looked at Stiles.  Stiles nodded, thought Derek could feel the turmoil in the younger man.  “Stiles bit me.  When I bit him back the empathy that Stiles usually has after the dreams came full force between us, though not to anyone else.”  
  
“May I?”  
  
The pack was uncomfortable with the fact that they’d bitten each other even if they didn’t know what Derek thought it was about.  Derek pulled his shirt collar aside and Deaton looked down but quickly looked back up at Derek.  “This happened last night?”  
Derek just nodded.  
  
“It isn’t healed yet.”  
  
“I’m aware.”  
  
“The wounds you received when Peter and the other pack attacked have healed though.”  
  
“Yes they have,” Derek confirmed.  
  
“You know what this means?”  
  
“I have a good idea.”  
  
“Stiles, may I see your bite mark?”  
  
Derek nodded encouragingly and he could feel Stiles’ hesitation but the young man pulled his collar to the side as well.  At the base of his neck where Derek had bitten him was a healed scar.  
  
“Fascinating,” Deaton said softly.  
  
“Want to share with the rest of the class, Deaton?” Chris asked.  
  
Deaton looked at Derek who shook his head slightly, just enough for the vet to notice.  “The bite is nothing to worry about.  It’s a way for the two to anchor themselves amid the emotional impact of the attacks.  I think Ms. Martin was correct when she mentioned over the phone that Peter had to be directing the dreams somehow.  There have been some signs in the area that I couldn’t understand and in context, I think I have an answer.”  
  
“And that would be?” Stiles broke his silence to ask.  
  
“I don’t know how Peter could control one, but I believe he’s gained access to a nocnitsa, a spirit who captures the unknowing in their nightmares and feeds from their life force.”  
  
“So I’m not a spirit walker?”  
  
Deaton shook his head.  “It’s not as easy as that, Stiles.  You are a spirit walker which is why we’ve seen the dreams manifesting as we have in the pack.  However, I think the reason you’re having so many problems with Derek is that the nocnitsa is feeding from him.”  
  
Derek looked up in surprise.  “The dreams aren’t any worse than I normally have.  Wouldn’t there be a change if something started feeding off me?”  
  
“Derek, how many nights do you wake from nightmares?” Deaton asked.  
  
Stiles was quiet at his side but his hand brushed against Derek’s knee as he noticed how uncomfortable the question left him.  “A couple times a week, usually.”  
  
He didn’t mention how bad the nightmares had always been, how they left him breathless and unable to sleep after.  How he’d gotten into a routine of working out and running so much because he needed to be completely drained physically to face sleep each night.  
  
“Have you ever talked to anyone about it?” Deaton continued.  
  
It was too personal but as much as Derek would have liked to avoid it they needed to realize it wasn’t an unusual pattern for him.  It revealed too much that he didn’t like to talk about but Stiles gave him an encouraging smile and Derek answered.  
  
“I did in New York.  PTSD.  It was getting better.  I was sleeping better.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
Derek shrugged.  “Laura died.  Peter woke.  Hunters.  The Alpha Pack.  All of it.  The nightmares came back.”  
  
“The darker the dreams, the stronger the pull would be for a nocnitsa.”  
  
“So was I helping or hurting by being in Derek’s dreams?” Stiles asked.  
  
“I don’t know.  I have no idea what effect a spirit walker would have on a nocnitsa’s eating patterns.  If I were to guess, she would have tried to feed off the both of you.  As a spirit walker you would have protected dreams, but in someone else’s nightmares, it’s quite possible she fed off your fears as well.”  
  
“If they weren’t Stiles’ dreams, what fears would she have fed off?” Scott asked.  
  
“That I was hurting everyone by being in their dreams,” Stiles answered.  “I have a lot of anxiety in your dreams.  I’m desperate to get you awake and out of there so I can’t hurt you.”  
  
“So how do we get rid of this thing?” his dad asked.  
  
“Iron,” Deaton answered.  
  
“Alright, so the nocnitsa works with Peter to attack us on the same night as he attacks everyone else.  Peter wants us alive for some reason.  So what does that have to do with the nemeton?” Stiles asked.  
  
Deaton shook his head.  “It could simply be that you manifested the tree in order to help you survive.  Perhaps the nocnitsa intended to kill you and not just to hold you back from joining in with the others to fight.”  
  
“I don’t believe that,” Stiles said adamantly.  
  
“I don’t either,” Derek agreed.  “I would never dream of the nemeton as something safe.”  
  
“What would you say then?” Deaton asked.  
  
“We need to check out the nemeton,” Derek said.  
  
“And about the other thing?” Scott asked.  
  
“What thing?” Derek asked.  
  
“You’re an Alpha.”  
  
“That,” Derek could have gone a while without having this conversation.  
  
“How is that possible? I thought you could only become an Alpha by killing another?  Or the whole force of will crap,” Jackson asked.  
  
“I have a theory,” Deaton said.  
  
Derek bit his tongue at the flash of smug annoyance from Stiles.  He looked at the young man and Stiles rolled his eyes.  
  
“Derek gave up his alpha spark to save his sister Cora, however that didn’t take away the power that was inherent to him.  I think when Peter endangered Stiles, Derek used their connection to access the Spark in Stiles to bring forth his alpha powers.”  
  
“Say that again,” the Sheriff said as he moved closer to Stiles.  
  
“All humans have the ability to do magic, but few have the spark to do so without aid.  We say those people have a Spark.  Without a Spark, humans can use other aids such as spells or tokens to reach magic.  The same is true for werewolves.  All werewolves have the ability to become alphas.  There are few true alphas, but any beta can become an alpha by killing an alpha.  Derek was an alpha but he gave up that spark to save Cora.  When his need for that strength was at its greatest, he used Stiles’ spark to become an alpha again.”  
  
“And why was that the moment of his greatest need?” the Sheriff asked.  
  
Derek looked at Stiles but the younger man was staring up at his father.  Deaton didn’t flinch from the other man though.  Of course he didn’t.  He wasn’t the one that had to worry about being shot with wolfsbane bullets.  
  
“Because Peter endangered his mate.”  
  
“His what?”  
  
The loft erupted in noise but Derek was too focused on Stiles to pay attention.  He hadn’t said anything about what it all meant but even when he wanted to deny what it was, he’d known down deep.  Stiles didn’t seem scared or freaked by the revelation though.  He seemed relieved.  Derek let out a snort when he realized Stiles had been afraid Derek hadn’t known.  He’d been worried that Derek would run when Deaton outed that aspect of their relationship.  
  
Stiles shifted closer to Derek on the couch next to him and leaned in.  “Think anyone would notice if we made a run for the nemeton right now?”  
  
“Yeah,” Derek huffed out a laugh.  “It might be worth it though.”  
  
The sheriff glared at Derek but the fond amusement from Stiles buffered it for him and he gave the other man an innocent smile.  
  
“Oh, good Lord,” the sheriff walked away but Derek counted it as a win.  Stiles had his head buried in Derek’s shoulder to suppress his laughter and in that moment, Derek felt he’d won his first real battle in a long time.  
  
  
**  
  
  
The forest was quiet around them and it became even more so the closer they got to the nemeton.  Stiles wasn’t happy to be there, but in Derek’s last dream it had given him aid and he had to take that as some kind of sign, right?  
  
Derek wasn’t the only one that feared the nemeton.  If it featured in either of their dreams it would have been a looming menace, not some kind of base in their fucked up game of tag with the fog.  
  
Stiles could feel Derek’s anxiety and he stepped closer until his shoulder brushed against Derek’s back.  Derek gave him a sharp look before he turned back at the huge stump of tree.  
  
“Nothing comes here anymore,” Derek said quietly.  “The animal tracks have all grown wild around here and it’s too quiet.”  
  
Chris, Scott, Kira, and Isaac had come with them and he knew the others had heard Derek’s words even if they were softly spoken.  
  
“What happened when you were here in your nightmare?” Chris asked.  
  
There was something in the way he asked that made Stiles look over at him.  They’d been through the details enough when they decided to make their way to the nemeton that morning.  Chris didn’t forget things like that so Stiles knew he was looking for something else.  
  
“I was running from the fog, trying to get to Stiles before it caught up to him.  I heard him coming this way.  When I got here the fog had cut me off from him but Stiles seemed safe because he was close to the nemeton.  It seemed to give off a power that the fog refused to cross.  I had to climb above the fog and I ended up trapped.  Stiles used dried leaves from the nemeton to make a path I could cross.”  
  
“So, that’s how you made it to safety.”  
  
A new voice caused Derek to push Stiles behind him but Stiles side stepped so that he was slightly behind Derek but still in a position to see the old woman who had suddenly appeared at the edge of the nemeton’s clearing.  
  
“The nemeton has never been particularly friendly to anyone trying to siphon off a little power.  I should have remembered it might take an active hand.”  
  
“Who are you?” Derek demanded.  
  
“I have many names, Derek Hale.  None of them are true.”  
  
“What do you want with us?” Stiles demanded.  
  
She laughed as she looked at the two of them together.  “Power.  Oh, the taste of his pain was so sweet but the desperation when you found him was almost addictive.  I had to pace myself so carefully so I didn’t drain you both too quickly.  No one noticed the subtle shift in your sleeping patterns, the loss of energy.”  
  
“How did you find us?”  Derek asked.  He wasn’t curious though.  He couldn’t care less how she found them.   He needed to let the others get close enough to her though.  
  
“Oh, well the nemeton was very good for that.  Your young friends made a sacrifice and it tied your pack to this tree.  I found the alpha’s nightmares but I couldn’t get to the spirit walker.  Imagine my joy when I began feeding off the pack and found you were his mate.  Just by stepping into your nightmares I was able to feed off the both of you.  
  
 “Why here?” Stiles demanded.  “Why now?”  He needed to know even if Derek didn’t.  
  
“The alpha…” the nocnitsa said with a cackle.  “The other alpha,” she clarified.  “He found me and offered me a home here in exchange for giving him the blue-eyed wolf and the boy who ran with him. He also said I could feed off you for years if I wanted, and oh how I want to.  You two are so delicious.”  
  
“You didn’t really believe he’d do that, did you?” Stiles scoffed.  
  
“If, and when, the alpha comes for me, I will be so strong he won’t be able to get rid of me.  I don’t fear him.”  
  
“Maybe you should fear this,” Chris said.  He brought his gun up to bear, iron rounds in the chamber but the old woman screeched and they all had to cover their ears from the sound.  She ran as the sound echoed around them but when Stiles was finally able to hear again, she was gone.  Isaac and Derek ran after her, Chris right behind them.  Stiles stayed with Kira and Scott.  
  
“Okay, that was a little crazy,” Scott said with a smile.  
  
“She reminded me of our third grade teacher,” Stiles confessed.  
  
Scott laughed at that but Kira looked up at Stiles.  “I thought the bite last night was the mating.  She said you were already mates?  In the dream?”  
  
Stiles let out a deep breath as he looked back down the path the others had taken.  He’d have preferred no one else caught that but he was surrounded by too many smart people.  Yeah for the lifesaving, but not so great for keeping secrets from them.  
  
“It wasn’t … like that.  Derek and I have always been sorta connected.  In the beginning it was a hate-hate thing.  It changed and became … this.  I didn’t know what to call it before the bite but then it became obvious what was going on between us.  I don’t even know what Derek thinks about it.  We haven’t really had much of a chance to talk.”  
  
“But you can feel what he’s feeling, right?”  
  
“First, violation of privacy is not cool to use against your mate.  Second, that tells me what he’s feeling, not what he’s thinking.  I mean right now he’s pissed.  He could be pissed because they caught her or because they didn’t or because he can hear me talking about this or just because he stubbed his toe.”  
  
“Oh,” Scott said with a sigh.  
  
“Yeah.  Empathy is only marginally helpful and that’s when it isn’t completely overwhelming me.”  
  
He felt Derek’s arrival before he saw him and he turned to look up the path Derek came trotting down.  The others weren’t far behind.  
  
“Alright?” Derek asked.  
  
“I’m guessing she got away?”  
  
Derek nodded and Stiles could feel the anger in the werewolf.  “Hey, she’ll be back soon enough in our heads.  At least we know how to fight her now.”  
  
Derek gave him a tight lipped smile.  “Yeah.  Let’s get back.  We still need to figure out where Peter is and how to deal with him.”  
  
It was a shitty truth and Stiles hated that they were going to have to take Derek’s uncle from him, again, but if anyone deserved to die or be exiled as many times as Peter had been, it was Peter.  He just hated making Derek lose his family again.  
  
Derek looked at him with a questioning gaze and Stiles didn’t answer but he reached for Derek’s hand and twined his fingers there.  Derek looked at their hands for a second but he didn’t pull away as they began the walk back to the Camaro.  In fact, he felt a fond amusement and happiness from Derek.

 

**

 

Stiles was lying on the couch, watching Derek and Scott looking over a map of the Hale Pack territory, when the pack stiffened.  Derek and Scott were first, but the others followed quickly after, each looking to the door in various stages of alarm.  Stiles could feel Derek’s anger and anxiety through the bond and he watched his mate with concern.  Derek didn’t say anything but Isaac and Jackson moved to Stiles’ side as if commanded.  He felt Derek’s relief and wondered if somehow, they hadn’t been.  Both were’s had been Derek’s betas the first time he’d been an alpha and Stiles would love to delve into the new pack dynamics to see if they felt the call of Derek’s alpha more or Scotts, but this wasn’t really the time to ask.  Or ever really, considering he didn’t want to pit one alpha against the other.  It was interesting though and something to ponder instead of worrying what was coming to the door that had everyone’s hackles up.  
  
A few minutes later, a light knock sounded at the door.  Scott started to move forward but Derek stopped him with a hand on his arm.  Stiles wanted to stop them both, but he could feel the determination in his mate.  Derek wasn’t trying to step on Scott’s authority.  He was trying to protect his alpha and be the sort of second who protected the pack alpha.  Scott seemed to understand because he nodded at Derek and stood back as Derek opened the door.  
  
Stiles wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see, but two betas with their knees bowed and necks bent had never entered his thoughts once.  
  
“What do you want?” Derek asked as he stared down at the two men.  Derek’s anger was held in check but Stiles knew he wasn’t ready to trust anyone that had willingly followed his uncle against the pack.  
  
They both looked up and Stiles was surprised by the similarities between the two.  Family.  Brothers maybe?  
  
The oldest looked at Derek and bowed his head again before he spoke.  “We’ve come to speak to your alpha.  We were taken in by the other alpha when we had become omegas.  An alpha pack destroyed our pack two years ago.  Peter took us in but have been trying to find a way to leave his pack.  Your pack has a reputation and we hoped you would help us get free of Peter.”  
  
“Why would we help you?” Derek demanded.  “You attacked our pack.  You helped him attack my mate.”  
  
“Derek,” Scott came forward then and the two alphas exchanged a look.  Derek backed away but only to stand a step behind Scott.  
  
“Why did you attack us if you were trying to escape?”  
  
“We didn’t have a choice.  We’ll tell you everything we can about him and the others.  We just want a chance to atone for our part and to be left alone.  We’ll find another pack, one that will let us heal.  Please, we just want to get away from the bloodshed.”  
  
Scott looked at the others and Stiles nodded his head slightly.  They’d heard rumors of other packs that had been destroyed by the alpha pack.  They could easily contain the two betas to make sure that they were sincere and that they spoke the truth.  If they did, they’d have a hand up on Peter and be able to plan their next move.  If not, they knew how to deal with creatures that wanted to destroy their pack.  
  
Scott looked to Derek last and though Stiles could feel the fear in Derek, his mate gave Scott the barest of nods.  He felt proud of his mate, of his willingness to give these people a second chance when Derek had been betrayed so many times already.  It spoke to the nature of Derek’s heart that he would be willing to allow these two men to find their peace instead of listen to the fear that had shadowed him for so much of his life.  
  
“Alright, but if we’re going to trust you, you’re going to have to trust us.  You’ll stay with us and Lydia and Stiles will make sure you can’t leave.  Until we’ve dealt with Peter, you’ll have to stay here.”  
  
The two seemed resigned to it, but he doubted they’d had much better expectations for the outcome of this meeting.  
  
“Alright,” Stiles said as he looked over at Lydia.  “Guess we need some mountain ash.”  
  
  
**  
  
“Do you believe them?” Scott asked as he looked at Chris.  Derek wasn’t happy with the two betas but he’d sat in as Chris had interrogated them.  He wasn’t cruel in his methods, but the way Chris’s voice had remained calm and eerily polite as he described what he would do to the betas if they betrayed Scott’s pack made Derek think torture might have been kinder.  The two betas had been terrified of the man, even with the legend of Chris Argent to back it up.  
  
“I do.  Peter used their fear of being omegas and promised them a real home to get them to accept him as their alpha.  Once they did, he abused his power and they had nowhere else to turn.  They know where he is and they’ve given us information about the other betas with Peter.  There are other pack members hiding out around the edges of the city, but they are like the brothers, forced to join and afraid to fight him.  The brothers said they know how to contact the others if we can get them free of Peter.  It’s just Peter and the six loyal betas that escaped with him when he attacked us.  If we plan this right, we can get rid of Peter’s threat for good.”  
  
“And for good, you mean?” Stiles butted in.  
  
Derek could feel Stiles concern for him but Derek had no issues with putting Peter back into the flames.  Once, he’d loved his uncle and looked up to him, even though he’d always treated Derek like a lesser member of the pack.  Even after he’d found out that Peter had killed Laura, he’d given Peter the benefit of the doubt and believed it was the insanity that had been the real cause.  Peter had healed though, and time had proven over and over again that his uncle’s insanity hadn’t been caused by the fire.  He’d been narcissistic and an egomaniac from childhood and he didn’t regret what he’d done.  In fact, he was still trying to gain the power he felt was rightly his and he didn’t care if he killed his only living family to do so.  
  
“He means Peter needs to be burned to ash,” Derek supplied.  He looked at Chris and the other man nodded.  “He was family once, but what he’s done to our pack isn’t forgivable.  I won’t have him loose to come back after us again.”  
  
Chris nodded.  “I understand.”  
  
It was an odd realization, to know that an Argent could understand what he felt at that moment, but he knew that Chris did.  “Then we end Peter this time.  No more second chances.  No more resurrections.”  
  
  
**  
  
This was the part Stiles hated.  They were ready to jump on Peter and his goons but they had to wait for them to come out of the warehouse they’d holed up in.  
  
It wouldn’t be long.  Ken and Kira had scouted the building and watched the south entrance while Parrish sat at the east end.  They’d seen all seven men enter the building and none had come out yet. As the sun began to sink, they waited for Peter’s betas.  According to the brothers, Peter planned to attack tonight.  The warehouse they’d taken over was in a section of mostly abandoned factories and there was little chance anyone would witness what was about to happen or would get dragged into something they weren’t aware of.  
  
Stiles looked over at the others and let out a deep breath.  Ken wasn’t well known to Peter and he was able to scout out the area with Kira at his side in case anything went wrong.  Parrish was a reliable lookout and with his military training, no one worried about his ability to warn them if someone tried to make an exit out the back.  Melissa was at the back of the group, medical supplies ready in case she was needed.  Along with her regular medical kit, she’d also started to carry every variety of wolfsbane she could find just in case.  Lydia was with Melissa, personal wolfsbane arsenal ready to defend the two of them if need be.  That left eight of them to take on Peter and his betas.  His dad had tried his best to keep Stiles out of it but he wasn’t going to be left behind.  He’d even brought up the way Stiles had felt Derek’s pain when Peter had attacked at Derek’s, but Stiles was determined to be there and Derek had backed him up.  
  
“I didn’t.”  
  
Stiles turned to look at Derek but his mate just shook his head.  “I can feel you Stiles.  You’re feeling a little smug and there is only one thing that’s about right now.  I didn’t want you here for this but I know you’ll be here no matter what I say.  I just accepted the fact that you’d show up if I didn’t plan for it so I might as well plan to have you here.”  
  
“See, being my mate has made your smarter already.”  
  
“It’s given me gray hairs already.”  
  
“You’re a werewolf.  Can you even get gray hairs?”  
  
“If anyone could manage it, it would be you, Stiles.”  
  
“Are we ready to move?” Chris asked.  
  
Derek nodded and he and Stiles took position behind a van in the parking lot.  Scott, Noshika, Chris were set to take the front door as soon as the other pack left the building.  His dad, Isaac, and Jackson were positioned around the corner of the building opposite Stiles and Derek.  
  
Stiles leaned against Derek as the alpha checked to see that the others were in place.  When he was reassured, he looked back at Stiles.  “If this goes bad Stiles,”  
  
“No.”  
  
“No?”  
  
“No, I’m not leaving.  I’m not running.  I’m not saving myself.”  
  
Derek rolled his eyes.  “If this goes bad, if you feel what I do when I get hurt, you need to get out of the fight.  Get to Melissa.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Stiles, I know you aren’t a coward and I know you want to protect our pack, but I can’t do what I need to if I know you’re suffering for it.”  
  
“If I can feel your pain, what will the distance matter?”  
  
“It’s a distraction during a fight.  I need to know that you’re fighting at 100% or that you’re getting your ass out of here, alright?”  
  
“This isn’t because you’re trying to keep me out of it, is it?”  
  
“Like I said before, I accepted that no matter how stupid the risk is, you’re always going to take it if it means keeping an eye on the people you care about.”  
  
Stiles grabbed Derek around the back of the neck and pulled him close.  “That means you too, so take care of yourself too.”  
  
He kissed Derek then, hard and demanding but it was returned in equal measure, until Derek pulled away suddenly.  He pushed Stiles behind him as the door of the building opened.  
  
“I can smell you, Scott,” Peter called out as he exited the building with his betas.  
  
“Good, then you know you’re outnumbered and you should just give up this charade now Peter,” Scott called out.  He walked out of the shadows with Chris and Noshika.  Noshika drew her sword and the air seemed to quiver with the sound of metal being drawn.  
  
“Scott, being outnumbered is not the same as being outmanned.  Do you really think your pack can take down the killers I’ve brought to you?”  
  
“Let’s find out,” Chris said as he pulled two guns from his jacket holster.  
  
It was the last word, as Peter transformed and the betas roared.  Chris fired at the closest of them, the first blood drawn, and all hell broke loose.  
  
Derek ran into the fight with claws drawn while Stiles held his bat at the ready.  The gun shots were signals to Kira and Ken to go to the east end, while Parrish joined the fight.  He might not be a werewolf, but he was something else, and his military training made him an excellent shot.  
  
Stiles knew that Scott, Chris, and Derek were all trying to get to Peter first.  Chris and Derek both wanted vengeance for what Peter had done to their families, while Scott wanted to get there first to keep Derek from being the one to kill his uncle.  
  
Stiles tried to keep tabs on who won that race but he was rushed almost as soon as Derek left his side.  The betas seemed to pin point the humans in the group and were attacking them.  Stiles bashed his bat into the skull of the beta that ran towards him, but it wasn’t the right angle and it only stunned the man for a moment.  He raised it again, but was tackled to the ground by another beta.  His claws were drawn and he was about to eviscerate Stiles when blood spilled from his lips and he fell off Stiles.  Kira’s blade was bloody as she turned to the second beta.  Parrish was at her side though and he put a wolfsbane bullet between the eyes of the beta that Stiles had hit.  
  
“Are you okay, Stiles?” Kira asked.  
  
“Great.  Thanks for the save.”  
  
Kira smiled but her eyes darted across the lot to the rest of the fight and Stiles turned with her.  
  
“We’ve got things here Kira,” Parrish said to her as she wiped her blade clean on the dead beta’s shirt.  “Get your father and get back to Melissa and Lydia.”  
  
Kira nodded to Stiles before she left but his eyes were on the rest of the fight.  He couldn’t move forward.  Derek had feared Stiles would feel his pain, and he was right.  Stiles watched as Peter slashed at Derek’s chest with his claws and he gasped as they grazed Derek’s skin.  Not a real injury but Stiles felt the sting of it.  
  
“Stiles?”  
  
“I’m okay,” he lied to Parrish.  The deputy knew what had happened though and he held Stiles back.  
  
To one side of the fight, Noshika and his dad fought together to take down one of the betas.  Isaac and Jackson were close by with another.   Scott and Chris each fought separate betas.  They were all there, all accounted for and Stiles could almost breathe a sigh of relief, except that the four betas that fought his pack seemed to be experienced fighters.  
  
Scott could handle a lot of pain, but he wasn’t as good at fighting.  He didn’t train for it, didn’t have the instinct for it.  Stiles could see the mistakes he made from where he watched; the hesitation to strike when his opponent was weak, the moment he gave him to get back to his feet.  
  
Chris Argent had no such problems.  Chris’s fight was a dance and when his opponent made the wrong move, it ended with a bullet in the brain.  
  
Noshika beheaded one beta from behind.  He’d forgotten the smaller woman as he fought with the Sheriff.   She took advantage of his mistake and instantly grabbed his dad to make sure he was okay.  
  
Isaac and Jackson made quick work of their prey.  Jackson had always been angry, but Stiles was surprised by the ferocity he saw in Isaac.  
  
In the center of it all stood Peter and Derek.  Peter stalled, taking low blows and wide swipes in what Stiles thought was a ploy to stretch it out.  He must have had some thoughts about his betas coming to his aid against the fury that was Derek, but as Scott threw his beta to the floor, Chris put three bullets into the heart and ended the fight.  
  
“Is this where you offer me the chance to surrender Derek?” Peter taunted.  “Should I tuck my tail between my legs and bow down to the alpha now?”  
  
Derek didn’t say anything.  
  
“Surely you won’t kill your own uncle?”  
  
Derek roared and Stiles felt it to his very core.  The entire pack – humans included- threw their heads back and answered the alpha’s call.  Stiles had seen it once, an alpha’s real power over his pack, and it was even more impressive to see it as a call of solidarity than it had been to see it used to exert power over another.  
  
Stiles felt the strength it gave his mate, felt the power of the pack behind him, and he felt dizzy with it.  
  
Derek surged forward against his uncle and Peter wasn’t fast enough to move or counter him.  Derek had his uncle by the neck and threw him against the building wall.     Stiles feared Derek would rip Peter apart with his claws but a single gunshot ended the other alpha’s life.  As Derek jerked away from his fallen uncle, it was Stiles’ father that stepped up alongside the alpha.  
  
“He was mine,” Derek practically growled.  
  
The Sheriff nodded.  “I know, but I couldn’t let you be the one to do it.  None of us wanted you to be the one to do this Derek.  Families take care of one another.  Pack takes care of one another.  Now go take care of that damn fool son of mine.”  
  
Derek’s eyes jerked towards Stiles immediately and before he could even wave, Derek was on top of him, hands roaming over Stiles to see if he was injured.  
  
“I’m fine.  You were the one hurt.”  
  
“No, I just got a few scratches,” Derek denied.  
  
“I felt it, Derek. I know how deep he got you.”  
  
Derek’s eyes went wide as he realized they’d been right about how deep the connection between them went.  “Are you okay Stiles?”  
  
“Yeah, I am.  I know you healed already, but what do you say we let Melissa check us all out?”  
  
He thought Derek was going to argue but then Parrish interrupted.  “He wouldn’t let me take him to Melissa earlier.  Maybe you could get him there?”  
  
Stiles could have kissed the deputy if he wasn’t already planning on getting lip locked with his mate later.  Derek wouldn’t want anyone to check him out but he’d throw a fit if Stiles didn’t get checked out.  He’d just tell Melissa he wouldn’t allow himself to be checked out until Derek was.  
  
It was a great plan.  And it worked.  
  
Two in one day.  Their luck had finally turned up.

 

**

 

“So now that Peter isn’t a problem, what about the nocnitsa?” Lydia asked as they settled around Derek’s loft together again.  Chris was still gone with Isaac and Parrish, taking the rest of Peter’s pack to the border to let them go but the pack still felt unsettled.  
  
“It’ll be back, but we know how to deal with it,” Derek said.  Stiles was confident now that they understood what had happened, they’d be able to stop her. Not only that, but he was sure that with her gone, he’d be able to wake Derek from his nightmares the way he could with everyone else.  If that proved to be true, then the trouble with Stiles’ spirit walking was over.  He still needed to learn to control it but that was something Deaton had assured them would come in time.  
  
In fact, Derek had the feeling she’d be back tonight but with more conversations with Deaton they thought iron would work in the dream as well as in the flesh.  Much like Stiles ability to spirit walk left him vulnerable to what happened in the dreams he witnessed, the nocnitsa was vulnerable as well.  
  
“And now that you’re an alpha?” Scott asked.  
  
Derek felt the tension in the room and he understood why.  Scott himself seemed anxious over the answer and he let out a small huff because he’d learned a lot over the last few years and that was that he preferred to let someone else lead the pack.  
  
“You’re a good alpha, Scott.  I’m not interested in taking that away from you, any more than I’m interested in leaving the pack.”  
  
Stiles was shocked into silence by the thought and Derek took one of his hands between his own as he watched Scott.  The others hadn’t really adjusted to the change in his relationship with Stiles yet.  Hell, he wasn’t sure he had either but this was his mate and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for him.  Including holding hands if it meant giving him comfort when Derek brought up something that he wouldn’t have thought of yet.  
  
“I would never-”  
  
“I know, Scott.  I’m happy enough to remain in the pack and share what I know.”  
  
“So, two alphas in one pack but without the douchiness of the alpha pack?” Stiles asked.  
  
“Sounds good to me,” Scott answered with a large grin.  
  
Derek couldn’t help but return a small one as he nodded up at Scott.  
  
“Just so long as you remember to take care of my best friend,” Scott added.  
  
Derek let out a bark of laughter.  “Is this the part where you threaten me?”  
  
Scott shook his head.  “Nah, his dad’s the sheriff.  I figure I don’t need to worry about it.”  
  
“Thanks for the reminder.”  
  
Stiles bumped him with his shoulder and Derek looked over to see the large smile on his mate’s face.  He let out a sigh and leaned into the touch.  “I didn’t know you were worried about the pack thing.”  
  
Derek looked down at their hands but then back at Stiles.  “I wasn’t too worried.  I knew Scott wouldn’t ask me to leave.  I think we’ve come far enough that he’d still want me here, but even if I doubted that I know he’d never ask you to choose.  It’s not who the two of you are to each other.”  
  
“What I love is that you know that,” Stiles said softly.  “That you aren’t worried about that.”  
  
Derek knew what he was saying.  That Derek wasn’t threatened by the close friendship his mate had with another man.  That with all the betrayals Derek had faced,  he trusted Stiles not to add to them.  That Derek trusted his pack and his alpha to take care of him as well as he tried to take care of the pack.  
  
Scott’s phone rang and Derek watched the tension in his shoulders fall.  A second later he joined them.  “It’s all taken care of.  We can move on now.”  
  
It didn’t take long then for everyone to head out.  They’d all been cooped up for too long and while they were pack and friends, not all of them were as at ease with each other as the rest.  The revelation about Derek being an alpha again and his relationship with Stiles was something the others needed time to digest as well and he couldn’t blame them for wanting downtime.  
  
Hell, Stiles wanted time to absorb it all, too.  Well, mostly he wanted time to act upon it.  
  
  
**  
  
  
“What in the ever-loving name of God could anyone possibly want?” Stiles grumbled at the sound of someone at the door.  It was 7 am on a Saturday.  After staying up half the night with Derek, consummating their mating – and yes he was calling it that in his head because it sounded so much grander than losing his virginity – and then facing off against the nocnitsa, he was exhausted.  It hadn’t been a restful night and the last thing he wanted was to deal with any new problems today.  
  
He just wanted to sleep in, take Derek up on a few promises he’d made in bed last night, and then sleep some more, with Derek at his side.  
  
“Go back to sleep,” Derek told him.  “Maybe I can scowl them away.”  
  
“Ha!  I totally called theat!”  
  
Derek smiled at him before he placed a quick kiss on his lips and slipped into a pair of sweats.  He went downstairs shirtless and barefoot and Stiles stayed in bed for all of a minute before he got up and found another pair of sweats to pull on.  
  
The pack was downstairs and Derek was in the kitchen making coffee. “Did I miss something?” Stiles asked as he stood in front of the couch.  
  
“The nocnitsa?” Lydia reminded him.  “I know you said she’d be back soon but I think we need a better plan of attack than that.  If we can get a jump on this thing then-”  
  
“It’s dead.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Derek came up behind Stiles and leaned into him and Stiles leaned back.  He closed his eye and took comfort in his mate, his lover, then looked at Lydia.  “Derek and I took care of her last night.  She seemed to think with Peter gone, she had one last shot at us before we found her in the flesh.  She tried to drain us dry last night.”  
  
“But we took care of it,” Derek finished up for Stiles.  
  
“But, we were going to help you,” Scott said.  
  
“No need, man.  Derek had a nightmare, we were able to get her and bind her, and then I was able to wake Derek without either of us getting hurt.”  
  
“That’s awesome,” Kira said with a large smile.  
  
“I guess, we don’t need to be here then,” Scott said as he looked at Stiles and Derek.  
  
Stiles got it then.  No matter what else had happened, he had come over to show Stiles how much he supported his choice.  “You know what we do need though?” He looked up at Derek and Derek looked back at Scott’s slightly defeated gesture and sighed.  
  
“Breakfast?” Derek asked.  
  
“Absolutely.  In or out?”  
  
“We could cook,” Derek offered.  
  
It was so domestic an idea that Stiles felt like he was a little kid playing house, but the chance to stand by Derek’s side and banter with him as they made breakfast for the pack was too much for him to pass up.  
  
“Bacon?” Scott asked.  
  
“And biscuits and gravy like my mom used to make after a full moon,” Derek answered.  It was the beginning of a conversation about their comfort foods and what their parents made them all after a hard day.  It turned into their habits when they got sick and then into arguments of the best way to beat a common cold or headache.  The entire time, Derek and Stiles moved around the kitchen, cooking breakfast with a little help from their pack.  
  
When Derek stopped to kiss the orange juice from Stiles’ lips, he smiled up at Derek and couldn’t help the way it grew when Derek returned it.   Sure, they’d had a rough time of things lately and Stiles still had a long way to go to learn how to control his spirit walking, but each day gave him a little something more to fight for; a little something more to hold onto.  
  
Some nights, he might still need to fight against the echoed pain of his packmates’ nightmares but on those nights he had Derek now and he knew he’d never be alone in that fight again.  With a lighter heart and a smile firmly in place, he handed the bread over to Scott to man the toaster – the only appliance Scott was allowed to use in the kitchen – and finished feeding his pack.  And if he stood a little too close to Derek and Derek leaned in a bit far as they were working, the pack just smiled at them.  It was a new dynamic, Derek and Stiles being mates and Derek and Scott both alphas again, but it was a good change.  He had no idea what would come at them next, but optimism had begun to win out and Stiles thought just maybe there was a happy ending out there somewhere, waiting for them.


End file.
